


The Slave and The Blade

by RaeWyn1814



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Assassin Keith (Voltron), Assassin Lance (Voltron), Assassination Attempt(s), Blood and Injury, Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Minor Lance/Lotor (Voltron), Not Beta Read, Poison, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slave Lance (Voltron), Slow Burn, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-03
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-02-16 09:20:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18688618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeWyn1814/pseuds/RaeWyn1814
Summary: The world is at war, with no government and no rules. There are groups and organizations popping up left, right and centre trying to claim power for themselves and worst of these are the Galrans.Lance is now a new recruit for the Blade, an organization of assassins and Galran opposers. He must navigate the inner workings of this cutthroat organization and help its leaders identify the spies trying to topple it from the inside. Will Lance be able to keep himself safe, or will his dark past bring misfortune on the entire organization?ON HIATUS UNTIL NOVEMBER 2019





	1. Welcome to the Blade

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!  
> Welcome to my first fic. Let me know what you think, any comments and feedback are really appreciated. Enjoy!
> 
> P.S. -I know its a lot of set up in this chapter but things are really going to pick up from here on out!

Lance followed the directions he had been given but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised at the destination they led to. Lance looked up quizzically at the old log structure nestled in-between two huge outcroppings of rock. It was a pretty unassuming building, which he supposed made sense. 

He took a deep breath, adjusting his weapons belt, and taking a quick inventory of his defences. Ten small throwing knifes, a dagger and some various little distractions in his belt. A long, elegant bow decorated with fine blue carvings that whirled around the handle. And a nearly full quiver at his back, the case was matte black like a lot of his weapons, better for stealth. He tapped one black leather boot and felt the blade hidden there brush against his calf. Good.

Happy with his weapons collection, he made his way cautiously toward the building. As he got closer to the door he noticed the wooden sign swinging slightly from the post above the door. Voltron was painted in block letters across the wood, each letter a different color of paint. The sign looked fresh and new, unlike the rest of the building. It was an old building, it looked well maintained but not new, like the sign. There were no other indications as to what this place was, just a strange name.

Lance shrugged and pushed the door open, walking in, his hand hovering over his knife belt. At first he thought the place was abandoned, there were several unoccupied tables and a long stone counter towards the back of the room. The place looked clean though, too clean to be unoccupied. Just as that thought crossed his mind a tall, thin man stood up from behind the worn wooden counter. The man saw Lance and yelped, nearly dropped the box he must have been retrieving. Not expecting customers then.

The man composed himself. “Ah, hello lad, here for a drink?” The man said, his orange moustache moving as he spoke. He set the box he still held onto the counter beside him as he spoke.

“Uhhh… this is a bar?” Lance asked, confused and caught off guard by the question.

The man’s bushy eyebrows shot up “of a sorts, yes. We help more lost and wandering travellers than any other fine establishment.” Pride seeped into the words as the man spoke.

Lance didn’t ask the man what he meant by that and just nodded instead. His instructions didn’t specify what to do from here so he sat down at the bar and asked for a drink, not particularly caring what he was brought. It had been a long journey and he was parched.

“Do you always carry more weapons than a warring Yaslite?” The man asked as he slid over some kind of green, bubbling liquid. 

Lance smiled weakly (even though he had no idea what a Yaslite was) and forced his posture to remain laid back. He didn’t care for this choice of topic. “A sign of the times, isn’t it?” He responded vaguely, shrugging. Most people carried at least some kind of weapon these days. After all, lawlessness was the new law of the land.

“Unfortunately true” The man said pursing his lips in displeasure, either with Lance’s answer or the world they lived in. Thankfully the man chose not to pry further.

Lance eyed the drink, smelling it before he downed the entire thing. He didn’t worry about poison, he recognized most by smell and had antidotes on him just incase. The taste was almost minty. He licked his lips, pleased with the warm feeling seeping into him from the drink. Then he stuck out his hand, offering it to the man behind the counter. “Thanks for the drink, names Lance.”

“Coran” the man smiled as he replied, shaking hands firmly with Lance.

Lance decided to stay in Voltron until he came up with a plan for his next move. It wasn’t like he could simply ask the barkeep where the Blades were located. It wasn’t common knowledge anyway. So, he sat at one of the empty tables in the corner, keeping his back to the wall where he could keep an eye on the entire room. Lance took off his knife belt and started polishing his matte black blades, keeping his hands busy as his mind worked.

He looked up from his work when he heard the slight creak of the wooden door opening. Lance kept the surprise and recognition from showing on his face. The man who walked in was tall and built with a splotch of white hair at the front of his head. He had a large scar running across the bridge of his nose and his cheeks. 

Lance continued to polish the blades, keeping the man in his sights without openly acknowledging him. He wanted nothing more than to stand and greet the man but he held himself back, choosing not to react. He wasn’t sure if this place was trustworthy or who could be observing so he played this close to the chest. To his surprise the other man walked right up to him and sat down at his table.

Shiro smiled over at him “Its no surprise you are still alive, you’ve got a good head on those shoulders.” Lance tried not to let the compliment go to his head but he wasn’t entirely successful. Shiro was way too nice to be the leader of the Blades, and Lance was entirely unused to complements from people of such influence. 

Shiro grabbed the drink Coran brought to the table for him and chugged it back, wiping his mouth afterwards. “You don’t have to worry, though, Coran already knows about me and the Blade.”

Lance let out a breath and then smiled back, putting his blade back in his belt. “Good to see you Shiro” he said earnestly, shaking the other mans hand across the table. 

“I trust you found the place without too much trouble.”

Lance shrugged. He had hit a couple of snags in the road but none of them due to the directions Shiro had given him.

“I see, well, as long as you made it here in one piece.” Lance didn’t miss the way Shiro’s eyes scanned him quickly, looking for injuries no doubt. Shiro seemed to relax when he didn’t find any.

“What are we doing here, Shiro?” Lance asked, gesturing to the building around them.

“Good question. This is one of our safe houses, a rest stop I guess you could call it. Coran is one of the Blade’s fences and he serves as our eyes and ears on the outside. It’s also a good place to send potential recruits for their….what shall we call them, trials?” Shiro shot Coran a glance who nodded in agreement as he walked back to the bar and started polishing the already clean glasses, giving the other two some space to talk.

“So, Im here to see if Im fit to be a blade?” Lance asked, curiously. He was actually starting to feel excited, eager to see what these trials would entail.

Shiro shook his head “No. As far as I’m concerned you have more than proven yourself Blade material. Your trials are complete. I simply needed to meet you somewhere we wouldn’t be interrupted.” Did the leader of the Blade often leave the base to meet with new recruits in secret? Lance very much doubted it.

“Whats this about, Shiro?” Lance asked, obviously there was something going on besides his initiation into the Blade.

Shiro shifted in his seat, his prosthetic arm reaching up to push back the white bangs that were shifting into his face. The man looked uncomfortable with what he was about to say and that was a bit unsettling. Shiro let out a breath, in preparation for who knows what.

“I know I can trust you but this is a lot to ask. So just hear me out.” 

Lance nodded, gesturing for Shiro to continue.

“Its come to our attention that there is a group of informants within the Blade. We don’t know how many but Kolivan assures me there are at least three, likely more.” Shiro eyed Lance disapprovingly “Kolivan is one of the Blade’s master assassins as well as the training commander, you will meet him later, so don’t interrupt.”

Lance closed his mouth and leaned back in his chair a small pout finding its way onto his face. Shiro had already answered his question before he even had a chance to ask it. He nodded again, sheepishly. He had promised to let Shiro speak.

“I need a recruit on the ground that I trust, the higher ups within the Blade are getting nowhere, they are too widely known within the organization. Thats where you would come in. I know you are already skilled in several areas of attack and defence so you won’t be needing to be trained from scratch. Meaning we could put you to good use right away. No one knows that we know each other, keeping your cover intact. This way you still get what you want from the Blade and you help keep us operational.” Shiro leaned back and waited for Lance to speak. He looked more on edge now than he had before.

“It makes sense, and I have no problem putting these beautiful ears to good use.” He smirked at Shiro. “But, Shiro I can’t help but think there has to be someone better for this. You know my history and….I have pretty big price on my head. What if I get recognized?” Lances voice dropped as he spoke, not that he didn’t trust Coran, if Shiro did, but his past wasn’t something he liked to talk about.

Shiro’s face grew more serious and there were several other emotions there that Lance couldn’t quite understand. It wasn’t pity, but maybe something similar. “I know. And don’t take this the wrong way Lance. I hate to put you in more danger but we have reason to believe that these spies are from the Galra. If they recognize you it will be much easier for us to figure out who they are and stop them.”

Lance understood, he wasn’t just supposed to be Shiro’s man on the inside. He was supposed to be a target, the bait. Lance would be lying if he said it wasn’t a bitter pill to swallow. But he understood Shiro’s plan and he couldn’t deny it was a smart one. And likely better than any other option Shiro had to consider. Lance didn’t say anything yet, considering the ways he could make this work to their full advantage.

Shiro must have taken his silence as hesitation. “I told you it was a lot to ask. I wouldn’t be doing this if I had any other options, but Lance, you are exactly what we need and if this works there won’t be any casualties. And I know you can handle yourself kid, I wouldn’t put you in harms way if I didn’t have faith in you and your skill.” Again, Lance was surprised by the kindness of the Blade’s leader. How did this man have such a dangerous band of assassins and rebels following him without question?

Lance met Shiro’s eyes, letting his own conviction show “How will I report to you if we aren’t supposed to know each other?”

Shiro smiled at Lance again, his strained posture relaxing “Let me take care of that, focus on keeping your eyes and ears open and I will figure out a way to keep in contact.” Shiro hesitated before speaking again, his voice low and sincere “Thank you, seriously. You are the only one I can trust with this.”

Lance nodded and shrugged, “Its nothing Shiro, besides, I owe you one.” They both knew how true that statement was.

Shiro stood up and walked to the door, he turned to lock eyes with Lance. “Stay out of trouble, understand? You are literally walking into a den of cutthroats, stay focused. We can’t afford to lose you.”

Lance nodded solemnly. “Thanks Shiro, see you around.” Lance threw his hand up in a stationary wave.

Shiro walked back out through the door without looking back again. This would probably be the last time they talked directly for some time. Lance sighed. He had to focus now, he had his work cut out for him and he needed a plan. Lance tapped his fingers continuously at his table as he ran through scenarios in his mind.

Coran came up to the table with a bundle of cloth. “Welcome to the Blade young man, Shiro had your armour made. For as nervous as he looked, he was pretty certain you would agree. With this you should fit right on in with the others.” Coran set the bundle of light armour in front of Lance on the table “Its resistant to many weapons but its light weight, mind you, and will offer little protection from direct attacks. Be vigilant, son.” 

“Thanks Coran.” Lance said, taking the bundle of light weight, sturdy fabric. Lance ran his hands over the armour, it was surprisingly soft. The deep black fabric seemed to suck in the light like a black hole. It was empty darkness, like it was made from the shadows themselves. Lance felt excitement run through him again with the thought of putting the armour to work.

Coran watched him with a knowing smile. “Now then, let’s go through some of the rules of the Blade before we take you down to the underground guild hall. I think you will find the mountain caverns are a great place to hide a group of notorious assassins.” 

Coran spoke about a few of the less known rules about the Blade as an organization and quickly outlined their ranking system. As far as Lance understood there were levels starting with Recruit, moving to Level 1, 2, 3, 4, and then 5. Each rank having progressively fewer assassins. Master was next, then of course the only Grand Master Shiro. Smaller divisions and titles were given as well but mostly only to deserving assassins who held the rank of Master. This included the Training Master Kolivan that Shiro had mentioned and an illusive assassin that was Shiro’s Second or right hand.

After Lance had picked up the basics, Coran led him behind the bar where the older man opened a secret panel in the wall. Lance eyed Coran questioningly as he stared into the darkness before him.

“It will lead you to an untouchable called Tom and he will take you from there. No need to fear, my boy!”

“An untouchable?” Lance asked, not really liking the sound of that title.

“Ahhh… Right, I should explain that, shouldn’t I? There are people working with the Blades but aren’t really part of the Blades. Some of them were born there, others were rescued from slavers. No matter, they all ended up loyal to the Blade in some way.”

Lance nodded, it made sense with an organization as large as the Blades that not everyone working with them would be a killer.

“Anyway, these untouchables are off limits to assassins of any rank. They serve as messengers and assistants. They also preside over any disagreements between assassins.” 

“Have any of them ever been killed?” He needed as much information as he could get on anything Blade related before he was thrust into their midst.

“Its the most sacred rule of the Blades” Coran sighed “but, unfortunately, it has happened. Mind you not often, and not in a long while. The last Blade to kill an untouchable was badly tortured and eventually killed, his name forever banned from being spoken and his deeds erased. His family was left desolate with a tarnished name. It is too great a price to pay for most.”

“I can see why that wouldn’t be appealing. Killers and their accomplishments, they like their names to strike fear into the heart of their enemies, not pity.” 

“You speak as though you weren’t the same, my boy.”

“I guess I really am no different.” Lance spoke quietly, more to himself than the moustached man.

Lance thanked Coran for his help and made his way into the dark stone tunnel that curved its way into the mountains beyond the little bar.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, Chapter Two!
> 
> Here come some of the other characters. Still a lot of set up but I promise we will get there, its a slow build up.
> 
> Enjoy!!

Lance sat in the underground antechamber that housed the makeshift dining hall. There were tables of several shapes and sizes lining the hall and the varied seats ranged from overturned buckets to large boulders. Lance just happened to be sitting in one of the few folding chairs. He earned several looks of distain and even a passing snarl. Lance sighed inwardly, he wasn’t making a good first impression. And that could turn out to make his life even more perilous than it already was.

Lance shook his head and tuned back into the conversation going on at his table. Tom the old, decrepit and frankly disgusting man in front of him, was telling Lance and the other newbie about the guild and its basic workings. Apparently, as an untouchable Tom was an ideal candidate for recruit orientation, less biased and likely to manipulate the newbies.

“Everyone just calls him Red. If anyone knows his true name they ain’t lettin’ on. So we took to calling him Red. Mostly cuz he’s got so much blood on his hands he should be swimmin’ in it. Don’t be gettin’ on his bad side, or any side. He’s, ya know, second in command and all but he’s the fastest most dangerous killer here, an’ that’s sayin’ somthin’.”

So this was the man who was Shiro’s right hand. Lance looked curiously in his direction and was surprised at the other boy sitting there. He couldn’t have been much older than Lance and he already held the rank of Master and a highly coveted position within the Blade. He must be something special.

Red didn’t look their way, but it was somehow apparent that he knew they were there. He probably also knew they were talking about him. Lance knew instantly this man didn’t miss anything, this man practically screamed dangerous. Lance stared openly at the man as though he truly weren’t paying attention. He looked tall, his long legs stretched out in front of him, confident and unconcerned by the killers around him. He held himself in a relaxed manner, it wouldn’t have surprised Lance though if that was an appearance and the man could kill them all in a second without moving from that spot. 

Red's dark, wavy hair was longer in the back, almost to his shoulders. Unusual. Most assassins kept theirs cropped short or shaved to keep it out of their faces. This man was not like the others. Not only did he let his hair into his face and neck but he also wore a long cloak with a large hood that kept his features shadowed. It wasn’t particularly warm in the rocky caverns but most assassins just wore their armour or similar body suits when they weren’t on missions. They didn’t need to hide from each other. But maybe Red did?

Lance had to forcibly return his eyes to the barely edible goop in front of him. There was something about this Red that constantly drew his gaze, even though he knew he was meant to look anywhere else. Maybe the guy was just attractive? It wouldn’t be the first time Lance had a thing for a dangerous stranger. Lance tried not to think about it, tried to keep his eyes on his plate. He ate the gross, nutritious goo but his thoughts (and eyes) continued to wander back to the killer across the room.

Lance didn’t really listen to Tom as he continued to talk. The other newbie was listening with rapt attention though. The other kid at the table looked young, younger than Lances own 18 years. And they didn’t look the least bit threatening. The kid wore large round glasses over their soft hazel eyes and had short brown hair that flipped up in the back. Lance couldn’t help but hope that the kid wasn’t there as an assassin, it didn’t seem fair to put killing in the hands of someone so young. He held onto the possibility that they might be taking on another role within the Blades. Either way it wasn’t his business and he wouldn’t be getting close, to anyone. His life and theirs depended on it.

After the brief meal and quick introduction from Tom, Lance was left to do his own thing. He walked aimlessly through the underground maze of tunnels and chambers, slowly creating a mental map of any exits and useful hiding places. He really had no way of knowing what he should be prepared for so he thought through any scenario he could. It never hurts to have a plan.

As soon as Lance found the training hall he knew he would be in there regularly. What else did he have to occupy his time? After all he wasn’t allowed to leave the underground sanctuary yet. He had to be chosen by an upper ranking assassin to be allowed on missions. Something about being untested and not yet a trusted, fully fledged member.

The training hall was large and open. There were a variety of training stations that took up the cavern. From a wall of rough rock climbing to weights to sparring squares. Lance’s eyes were drawn to the targets in the far side of the room. He would be able to practice both his knives and his bow there. He clenched his hands as they itched to reach for the weapons. Soon.

He forced himself to leave the training hall and head in the direction of the bunks. Tom had told him and the other newbie to choose theirs quickly before any of the others took advantage of the set out linen. It sounded like the rooms were not monitored and the ideal beds were hard won. Lance didn’t really care, he doubted he would be sleeping very much.

He walked into one of the bunk halls through a worn and roughly hung curtain at the doorway. There were small alcoves dug into each of the walls running down the hall. He realized immediately that some were bigger and nicer than others. It didn’t matter. He saw the two unmade beds (really nothing more than a foam roll on top of a rock shelf) nearest to the curtained entrance and knew immediately they were meant for him and other new recruit. Of course they would be getting the worst spots. 

“Not great, right?” 

Lance looked over to see the small recruit tucking things into the alcove across from him. Damn they were small. “I mean, I know we are new, but this sucks. We are going to hear every damn person come in or out. Plus there is literally no privacy! Ugh!”

“I guess we will just have to move up in rank and take one of the single rooms, then.” 

“Ha! You must not have been listening. Those are for masters!”

“So? One day it’ll happen.” Lance didn’t really believe that but he kept the gusto in his voice. He was nothing like the prodigies here, and really that wasn’t his first objective.

“Riiight.” The other said sarcastically. “I’m Pidge, by the way, I’m starting in the infirmary and communications.”

Lance didn’t realize he’d still been worried about it but he felt himself relax when the smaller kid told him their job wouldn’t take them to the front lines. Damn, he was still too soft.

“Lance. I’ll be starting as an assassin.”

“Cool. So you can protect me from here on out then?” The kid must have noticed him stiffen. “Joking joking. But maybe we can eat together once in a while?” God. They really seemed young.

“Ya that sounds cool Pidge-o.” Lance nodded and smiled brightly at the kid before turning back to setting up his rocky bed. 

……

Over the next few days Lance fell into a routine of sorts. Always listening to the chatter around him and keeping to himself as much as possible. He still ate with Pidge pretty much everyday, they were a wealth of information and he soaked it in. They knew everything from gossip to individuals ranks and responsibilities. He was sure they knew even more than they were wiling to share with him. How did this supposed new recruit know so much about the Blade? He put that question on hold. Eventually he would have to address that but for now he would use it to his advantage. He hoped this newbie didn’t turn out to be one of the infiltrators he was supposed to find.

When he wasn’t eating with Pidge, Lance trained, hard. He was pleased to find that he picked up skills rather quickly. His hand to hand combat was improving exponentially. But what he really excelled at was long ranged knife and bow attacks. He wasn’t entirely surprised since he had been using those weapons on his journey here, but he was pleased to find that his accuracy quickly improved and he was sure he was better than a lot of the others here.

Lance was also pleased that he had the opportunity to practice with poisons. He had always found plants fascinating and when he was younger he had experimented with poisons regularly. One of the hazards of having an herbalist mother he supposed. Lances mother never approved of his experiments but she couldn’t deny his proclivity to poisons so she taught him enough to ensure his safety. Lance hadn’t had the opportunity to touch plants like this in years, in a way it was a comfort and he often returned to the plants to clear his mind.

He couldn’t help but think it was a little weird that there wasn’t any kind of monitoring on the poisons. Anyone could use them. Anyone could take them. He supposed it kind of made sense in a way. Only the strong survived here. If some idiot decided to play with poison and accidentally kill himself, well then, one less mouth to feed. Lance had to keep reminding himself that this was a kill or be killed place. There was no room for the weak or stupid here. The thought pushed him to train harder.

———

Keith stood in the shadows at the edge of the training hall, watching as one of the Blade’s newest recruits trained. Keith kept his hood up and focused on blending into the darkness. He wanted to watch but he couldn’t be seen here, especially by the new recruit. Kolivan was the only master to come to the training hall with any regularity. The masters had their own training area and gossip was sure to spread if he was seen taking such an interest in a new recruit. Red wasn’t known for taking apprentices or working well with others.

The boy was younger than Keith by at least a couple years. He was tall and lanky with tanned, caramel skin and brown hair. He had muscle but it was lean and evenly spread over his thin frame. His skin looked flawless save for a large scar that ran across his cheek and into his hair, disappearing just past his ear. The boy’s hair was shaved over the scar and blended up into the longer locks on the top of his head. He kept three braids tightly holding the hair on the other side of his head. From a distance it looked like he kept his hair completely short, save for the messy locks on top of his head. It was an interesting look but he pulled it off somehow. 

Keith watched as the boy changed weapons. He removed a few blades from the belt he always wore and spun them deftly in his thin fingers. He threw them in rapid succession and they all spun silently toward the target, imbedding themselves to the hilt in the centre. From what Keith had seen, this kid excelled in ranged weapons, he definitely couldn’t be new to using those weapons, there was no way.

Keith got the impression that this recruit had used weapons to kill before. He just didn’t seem green and nervous like so many of the other newbies. He didn’t hesitate and he held his weapons like they were a trusted extension to his body. This recruit was interesting for more reasons than one.

Keith thought back to the dining hall a few days ago. He had heard Tom describe him to the new recruits. Keith internally scoffed at the name he had been given by the other assassins. Red. Ha, how original. How terrifying. Please. The description Tom gave wasn’t what had surprised Keith, though. It was the way this particular recruit had reacted to it. 

The other newbie had responded by instantly seeming uncomfortable and not looking in the direction of the infamous Red even once. That was expected, that was a typical reaction. But not this guy. This guy had spent most of the meal staring openly at one of the most dangerous killers in the world. Well, that or shooting glances over his bowl of goo. Keith could practically see those bright blue eyes shining in his direction still. This kid was either crazy or stupid. That or maybe he had a reason not to fear Red. 

Keith couldn’t help but let his curiosity burn. Was this new kid so good that he didn’t have to fear one of the top assassins? From what Keith had seen he was good, but not that good. So was he actually just an idiot? It seemed unlikely if he had made it this far in life and had managed the trials to become a Blade member. Plus, those blue eyes seemed to practically swim with intelligence.

Besides, Keith had seen him with the poisonous plants and working with those meant you needed at least some level of brain capacity. Keith shuddered, he hated poisons. They were never his strong suit and he had a hard time detecting them. He made a mental note to keep a close eye on his food and drink from now on. He couldn’t be too careful, especially around an unknown entity like this new kid.

Was the kid crazy then? Possible. He seemed to like poisons, that made anyone a little crazy in Keith’s mind. Maybe he was here to challenge Keith in some way. The unguarded looks would make sense then. This kid could be sizing him up, or waiting for an opportunity to strike. It didn’t seem quite right but whatever the newbie’s deal Keith would keep an eye on him. There was just something about this kid…..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally some Keith POV, I love writing him! Also is that some attraction I see between our two favourite boys?
> 
> Also, bad news but I might be late with the next chapter. I have some travelling coming up and I dont know if I will finish on time. Should get back to the one a week after that though.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> Im back from my travels and should once again be posting weekly. Thanks so much for the comments and kudos so far!
> 
> Some warnings for this chapter:  
> Really light noncon, nothing graphic mostly just implied.  
> Some descriptions of blood and death, again not too graphic.

_Lance walked through the mansion in the darkness. The flickering candles were unevenly placed and barely lighting his way. It didn't matter. He knew these halls far better than he wanted to._

_His stomach was in knots as he walked and he forced himself to continue moving. He couldn't face the punishment if he failed to show up as ordered. His family couldn't handle the heavy  burden of their work without him. Especially with his sister's recent injury._

_No. He had no choice but to go. He tried not to focus on the pounding of his heart as he neared his destination. Maybe this wasn't what he thought it was. He doubted it. But he hoped nonetheless._

_He reached an ornate pair or doors and knocked with more confidence than he felt. He heard the quiet but commanding “enter” and forced himself to push the door open and step through._

_The bedroom was lavish and should have been beautiful, but it wasn't. Not to him. It made his skin crawl and his guts twist even more painfully. And the smell. He used to love lavender. He didn't now._

_The young Galran lord sat on his expensive, and frankly gaudy, bed in nothing more than a robe. It was open slightly, revealing a good portion of his chest but thankfully nothing lower._

_He didn't want to look at that face or that plait of white hair. He wanted to look anywhere else but his mind screamed at him to keep danger firmly within his sights._

_Lotor got off his bed slowly and walked toward him, his eyes wandering up and down as he came closer. Lance had to swallow the rising bile in his throat. The Galran apparently liked what he saw._

_The young Lord’s hands slowly moved to caress his face, a sick smile always present as his hands began to move. He felt every exposed piece of Lance as he slowly moved lower. He didn’t stop the unwanted touching, not even as the tears slowly rolled down Lance’s cheeks._

_He was property and he had no say in his own life. He could do nothing to stop this. None of them could. Slaves endured in silence._

  
Lance woke. Completely and fully in an instant. The kind of awake he knew had nothing to do with his dreams. This was something else, something more dangerous. He silently slid his hand to the knife by his pillow, listening intently. Nothing. He slowly rolled out of bed, silently grabbing his gear. He strapped his knife belt on and grabbed his boots, slipping them on quickly. Lance’s boots were his favourite part of his equipment. Soft and completely silent but weather proof and durable. He’d never seen anything like them.

He left his bunk silently, choosing not to wake anyone until he was sure of a disturbance. Pidge slept peacefully across from him, their glasses pushing into their relaxed face. They must have fallen asleep with them on again. Lance rolled his eyes but didn’t disturb the younger Blade.

He looked down the row of bunks, no movement, just the constant deep breathing and the occasional snores. No one else seemed to be awake. Maybe he was being ridiculous, paranoid. What kind of trouble could befall a den of cutthroats hidden deep in the mountainous crags? But he couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right.

He slipped out through the worn curtain that marked the entrance to their sleeping quarters, carefully to make no noise. If he was being a paranoid worrywart there was no reason for anyone else to know about it. He kept walking, not entirely certain where he was heading. The base was dark, quiet. He kept his ears peeled, on edge for any kind of disturbance.

He whirled suddenly, his knife up in an instant. His body reacted before his mind had time to register why. His knife sliced in an arc through the air, hitting nothing. Lance remained in a crouch, eyes searching.  
  
“You’d be dead if you were any slower.” Came the half whispered voice of death in the darkness.   
“Though, I suppose you’re up and armed, which is more than I can say for the rest.”  
A very distinct cloak covering a head of black, messy hair floated out of the darkness, there was no noise to indicate the movement.

Regardless of what Red had said, Lance was proud of his reaction time, proud he’d even known this ghost of a man was near. He remained slightly crouched, his knife out. He couldn’t trust this man in the slightest.

“Why are you here?” Red asked, accusatorially.

Lance thought about it for a second, not sure how he should respond. He sighed.   
“Something woke me.” He said matter of factly, not elaborating.

“…..and?”

“And I thought I’d check it out, I just had the feeling that something wasn’t right, you know?” He ended lamely. He was glad for the darkness, he could feel his cheeks heat up as they coloured. This man made him feel infinitely stupid.

“Mmmmm” was all the answer Lance got back.

Lance felt his anger rising as Red turned away slinking back into the darkness. Lance was less than thrilled to be so unceremoniously dismissed. He was considering just going back to bed when he heard the deep, quiet voice ahead of him.

“Are you coming?” Red asked, not slowing down as he continued walking silently into the darkness.

What could Lance do? Of course he would follow, there was no way in hell that mulleted murdered would be walking around in the darkness without Lance.

Lance followed Red as quickly as he could, only occasionally losing the near invisible man’s trail. Lance would mentally berate himself anytime that happened, of course he had to look incompetent in front of such an impressive assassin, and one of his bosses no less. It had nothing to do with their closeness in age or the others attractiveness. Nope nothing at all.

Lance stopped just as Red did. He had that feeling again, something was off here. He looked at Red briefly and was met with a calculating stare but nothing else. Lance closed his eyes and focussed on his other senses. When he opened his eyes again Red was looking at him curiously. Lance only then realized he had let his guard down in a very obvious way…he had closed his eyes in front on the worlds best killer. He had been so focussed on his other senses he had basically forgotten the other assassin was even there. Why was he so trusting of a cold blooded killer? Damn he probably looked like the biggest idiot.

“Which way?” Red asked, and Lance knew this was a test. Red’s tone of voice made it obvious that he already knew the answer. Lance hesitated. Then nodded his head to the slightly inclined path to the right.

Red didn’t say anything after that but continued on the path Lance had suggested. Either Lance had been right or Red was playing with him. Both answers seemed completely plausible.

Red didn’t speak again, didn’t ask for Lance’s opinion on direction, didn’t stop walking. They continued through the darkness, their movements nearly inaudible. Lance could see the slight change in lighting, they were heading toward the outside, the darkness ahead slightly less encompassing with the stars and moon illuminating parts of the sky.

The pair of assassins kept to the shadows, eyes searching for anything out of the ordinary. He could see through the opening in the rock but there was nothing there. Wait…..nothing?

“Where is the sentry?” Lance breathed, barely letting his voice be heard. Red tensed opposite him, clearly having heard.  
Red gestured toward Lance, a very clear ‘stay here’. He slipped out through the archway and into the dark night.

Lance watched the rocks and trees surrounding him, waiting for any movement. He had a throwing knife in his hand and his dagger in the other. He decided he would kill anything that moved. Red was too good an assassin to be taken off guard and anyone else out there was free game.

After a few minutes there was a flicker of movement in the brush and Lance loosed his dagger. The black blade disappeared into the night. Lance loved that metal, no glint, no sound, just death. He heard the slight thunk of his blade finding home, but he didn’t move from his post. Whoever it was they were dead.

Moments later, Red returned with literal blood on his hands. Lance couldn’t help but be reminded of why the man before him was called Red. He really did seem to deserve the name he was granted.

……

Keith couldn’t help but stare as the boy in front of him closed his eyes, focussing on his other senses in the darkness. Why would he ever close his eyes in front of Red, a ruthless killer? Again, was this kid a complete idiot?

Keith couldn’t think of the last time anyone had let their guard down around him, unless they didn’t know who he was. That wasn’t the case here though. Was this kid really not scared of him? At all? He didn’t know how to feel about that.

He was surprised when the boy opened his eyes and chose the right direction. Keith could feel an odd pull from that way and he wondered if the kid could somehow sense it too. That was not a skill a new recruit should be aware of.

He was stirred from his thoughts when the boy whispers something about a sentry. Keith stiffened when he realized he had been pulled too far into his own mind. Rookie mistake. He realized they made it to one of the bases hidden entrances, it shouldn’t be visible from the outside but they were able to see outside. It all looked still and calm.

That wasn’t the problem, though. As the recruit had said there was no sentry, and there should be. The punishment for leaving your post was death, so Keith doubted very much they would have gone anywhere without a very good reason.

He motioned for the boy to stay inside the concealed entry and he made his way silently from the tunnel, still following that pulling sensation.

It didn’t take long to find what he was looking for. Keith knelt down in front of the still and bleeding sentry he'd found just south of the secret entrance. He was breathing shallowly, uneven. His pain was painted on his face just as his blood painted the rock behind him.

Keith put his hand on the man's shoulder, wishing he could ease his pain. Not yet, not until he had the information he needed. 

"What happened? Who was it?" His voice was steady and controlled, but not unkind.

Through the gasping breaths Keith could only understand a few broken up words and sentences. Something about Galra wearing blade uniforms? Could that be right? There were a number of Blades with Galran heritage. Hell, Keith himself was one of them.

“One of the Blade?” He asked, not really wanting to hear the answer.

The guard shook his head, he hadn’t recognized the intruders. So where had the uniforms come from? It had to be one of the spies in their midst that had Shiro so concerned.

The guard coughed harshly and more blood trickles down his chin. He didn’t have long to live.

Keith pulled his knife out and looked to the dying man, it was his choice to make. The other man nodded slowly and closed his eyes.

Keith took a deep breath, steadying himself. He knew this was the right thing but he never liking killing one of their own.

He pulled the man close to himself and deftly slid the blade through the skin of his neck. Quick and deep. The sentry wouldn’t have felt a thing.

He sighed as the warm, thick blood soaked his arms and part of his uniform. It was a strange comfort. The feeling of spilled blood was always satisfying, calming. It meant his mission was complete and he lived another day. A small part of him hated that he liked the sensation, but mostly he welcomed it. He was a killer and this was his life.

He left the dead man against the rocky cliff. He would be taken care of as soon as he got inside and found an untouchable. He urgently needed to talk to Shiro.

Keith walked back toward the hidden entrance and the new kid. He wasn’t surprised at the shocked look the recruit failed to hide. Of course, Keith was covered in a lot of blood. He probably looked like hell.

"What happened to you?” the boys voice was cautious, guarded.

“I found the sentry.”

“And what? Killed him?” The boy was trying to lighten the mood, joking. He was trying to get Keith to open up about what happened. Decision time. Should he tell him or let the kid fill in the gaps and heighten his own reputation as the most blood thirsty of the Blades?

He couldn’t explain why but he didn’t want the other boy to see him that way. So instead he explained what happened. Leaving out some of the more important and sensitive details. He had no reason to trust this recruit.

“Damn.”

Keith nodded, “We should head back inside, I need to speak with the Grand Master.”

“Right. Shiro.” The new recruit muttered. Keith doubted he was meant to hear that. Shiro? Did anyone else call him that besides Keith? How did this newbie even know the grand masters name?

“What?” Keith said, presenting he hadn’t heard exactly what the newbie had said.

“Oh…uh… nothing. I was just going to say that there’s another body over there that we should check out before we go inside.”

“You left the entrance?” Keith let his voice bleed with disapproval, orders were law here and the newbie should never have disobeyed.

The new kid shook his hand furiously in front of him, clearly realizing what Keith had thought. “No! No, I just maybe…. killed them from here?”

Keith nodded, impressive but again not surprising. This recruit was indeed interesting. He motioned for the other boy to lead the way and he followed him into the nearby trees.

The body was definitely Galran and wearing a Blade uniform, but he wasn’t one of them. Keith made a point to know the faces of all the Blade members and he didn’t recognize this one.

He watched as the new kid leaned down in front of his now dead target. He deftly retrieved the knife he had thrown and wiped it on the corpses tunic before putting it silently back into his belt. The other boy then leaned down and murmured something as he made a couple of graceful hand signs before closing the staring, dead eyes one at a time with his thumb. He brought his hand up to his mouth and kissed his own knuckles before gesturing up at the night sky.

It was fluid and beautiful, a ceremony of some kind. The gestures were oddly comforting but it tugged at something in Keith’s memory. He felt as though he had seen that ritual somewhere. He didn’t ask the other boy though, he doubted the kid would share his knowledge. It was a private moment and he wondered if the recruit had once again forgotten he was here.

The recruit stood up suddenly and turned away from the body, looking back at his superior for direction. Keith started back toward the hidden entrance without a word, and the new kid followed quietly behind.

Keith sent a new sentry to the entrance, not even bothering to tell him to stay inside. They knew the job and the consequences if they left their post. The bodies would not be found until someone was expressly sent to retrieve them. Keith sent the new recruit back to bed. This was an odd night for many reasons and he had so many new and unanswered questions. He needed to talk to Shiro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys are enjoying so far, I am having such a good time writing this!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who left comments and kudos on my work so far. Its so nice to see and really keeps me going when I need a little push.
> 
> This chapter is a bit longer than I have done yet. Enjoy!

Keith knocked on the door to Shiro’s study, opening the door after hearing the muffled ‘enter'.

Shiro sat at his solid rock desk, lamp flickering over pages of notes. He hunched over them as though he had been reading for hours. Keith figured he probably had been.

It was early in the morning, still dark but the light was slowly returning as the sun rose. As the Grand Master, Shiro got one of the only rooms with natural light in the city of rock they called home. There was a large skylight that was carved into the roof of the room, going up who knows how high to funnel in light from outside the mountain.

Shiro barely left his room and barely got outside so at least he had some sun in his dark hole. There was altogether too much desk work for the leader of the Blade. It wasn’t uncommon for Shiro to work through the night on who knows what. Keith didn’t approve and often made sure the Grand Master was aware of that. Now wasn’t the time, though. They had more important things to discuss, privately.

Keith looked at the untouchable standing over Shiro’s left shoulder. His assistant, Adam. The untouchable knew enough of the Blade’s secrets and Keith knew Shiro trusted him implicitly or he would have found a new assistant. Keith wasn't nearly as trusting, though, and he maintained a sceptical attitude about nearly everyone, including Adam.

"Grand Master? I'd like to speak with you privately if you have the time to spare." Adam probably knew they had a deeper relationship than just leaders within the Blade but he wasn’t sure. Keep it formal, keep their relationship private, it was no ones business anyway.

"Very well. Let me finish this report." The Grand Master wrote a few more lines. The scratching of his quill the only noise in the dimly lit room. With a flourish he signed the bottom of the document and handed it off to his assistant. 

Shiro looked up at Adam as he stretched out his back muscles. ”You may leave now. Please return to your post after you sleep." The untouchable nodded and left the room, papers stacked in his arms fluttering slightly as me moved carefully.

Once the door was closed again and they were alone both assassins visibly relaxed, neither having to consider their titles or responsibilities.

“You know that you can trust Adam, don’t you?” Shiro asked, a small smile on his lips.

“Old habits I guess” Keith shrugged.

Shiro nodded. ”How you doing kiddo? Haven't had the chance to talk to you in a while.” 

Keith shrugged again. There wasn't really much to say. He’d been going on missions, killing people. That was it....well until now.

"Shiro....what do you know about the latest batch of new recruits?" 

Shiro quirked his lips at the question. "There were only two of them, right?” A pause. “Why are you interested?”

“I may have stumbled across an interesting one. I don’t know if he can be trusted. There are some interesting things happening and I can’t help but notice they seemed to get worse just as he arrived.”

Shiro smiled, knowingly. “I see. I take it you’ve met Lance, then?”

“Lance? You know of him?” Keith was a little confused but not entirely surprised. Shiro knew pretty much everything happening within his organization.

“I know him, personally, actually. I recruited him.”

“What?! Since when do you recruit people?”

“This was a….special…situation.” Shiro hesitated but didn’t elaborate.

“Special how? What is going on Shiro?” Keith didn’t like that Shiro was hiding things from him. He was the Second in Command, he should be included in whatever was going on here.

“That would be between Lance and I, it’s for him to share if he is ever so inclined to do so.”

“Fine. What can you tell me then?” He could feel his frustration rising and gritted his teeth as he waited for an answer. He hated secrets that weren’t his own.

“Why don’t you start and I will fill in what I can? You obviously have something important to share if you are here at this hour and you dismissed my assistant?”

“Fine.” Keith told him of the disturbance earlier that night and of the new recruits odd behaviours and apparent skill. Shiro’s face darkened as he mentioned the Galra spies and death of one of their sentries.

“I see.” Shiro sighed and looked Keith directly in the eye. “There have been some developments since we last spoke. We are having more trouble than I like getting information on our infiltrators. That is why Lance is here. He has certain…skills…that will hopefully allow him to pass me information. And I know I can trust him. I needed an outsider and he filled that need perfectly.”

“So he is a pawn?” Keith didn’t know why that made him so angry. Weren’t they all pawns in one way or another?

“No, he is fully aware of the situation. It was his choice to join the Blades and his choice to spy for me.”

Keith nodded. The kid was a bigger fool than he had ever thought. He was going to get himself killed.

“Does he know about me?”

“He only knows that you are my Second and that I trust you.”

Keith nodded again. He still had no logical reason to explain the recruits odd lack of fear toward him. As far as Lance knew he was just another killer.

“You know…. now that you are fully in the loop, I may have an extra job for you. There is no way Lance can directly report to me and I have yet to find a way for him to slip me the information he gathers. I had though of Kolivan but it would be rather tricky as he is always surrounded by students.”

“So you want him to pass me information and me to relay it to you?” Keith surmised. He wasn’t entirely opposed to have another reason to be around the odd and interesting recruit.

“If you think you could do it?”

“Obviously.”

“Perfect, then it’s settled.”

“Not quite.” Keith hesitated, not really sure he should say what he was thinking. He wouldn’t put it past Shiro to make fun of him for it.  
“Don’t you think you are making his job a lot harder by having him remain a new recruit? He has the skill to be a higher rank and it would be a lot less suspicious if we were able to discuss missions as an excuse to interact. You know I don’t make a habit of showing interest in inexperienced newbies.”

“You want him to go on missions with you?” Shiro asked in confusion and surprise, Keith had never liked doing missions in pairs. He had to be practically forced into it.

Keith shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck as he felt warmth spread up it.

Thankfully Shiro didn’t press it. “You do have a point, though. It would put him in more danger, but I do feel better about you being there. Very well, I will see what I can do.”

Keith nodded. “And Shiro…. get some sleep once in a while.”

Shiro chuckled and bid Keith a good night. It was practically morning now, Keith doubted either of them would actually get any rest tonight.

……..

“I know you’re still there, Adam.” Shiro spoke softly into the darkness, eyes not leaving his desk.

“Dammit, I thought I was getting better at the whole sneaking thing.” Adam came back into the light of the room. He had obviously snuck back into the secret entrance after he’d been dismissed. He had probably been listening from the doorway for their entire conversation.

“You are. I don’t think Keith realized you hadn’t actually left. I guess my teaching is really paying off.”

“Mmmm that or I am just naturally talented?” Adam raised his eyebrows a few times teasingly. They both knew that wasn’t the case. Shiro had spent hours just trying to get Adam to be passable at keeping his breathing quiet.

“What did you make of that?” Shiro asked, nodding his head toward the door Keith had just left through.

“I’d say our little blood thirsty killer has an infatuation for the new kid.”

“So you saw it too?”

“Kind of hard to miss. He blushes like a little girl every time he talks about this Lance fellow. And the missions? He would never pick a mission partner that willingly unless he had some kind of ulterior motive.”

Shiro hummed thoughtfully. “They do have a lot in common, I’m actually not that surprised they’d be drawn together. This could make things a lot more difficult, though.”

“Keith can handle himself. And from what you’ve told me about Lance, he should be able to hold his own. Let them be, Shiro. They’re young.” Adam walked around Shiro as he spoke, his strong, dark arms trailing up from Shiro’s hands to his shoulders and resting there.

“Ya. You’re probably right.” Shiro sighed, pushing back against the warm hands.

“I usually am.” Adam laughed lightly, Shiro could feel the vibrations through Adams hands. “Now are you going to take a break from work or do I have to force you?” Adam leaned down, pressing his lips to the edge of Shiro’s jaw.

“Lets get some rest.” Shiro replied without hesitation, taking Adams hand in his.

…….

After only a couple hours of restless sleep, Lance was roughly woken by an excited Pidge. They practically dragged him out of bed and down the rocky halls to the Blade’s ranking board. Pidge was screeching excitedly and jumping up and down a little as they pointed to the board. It changed practically everyday as Blades died and others took their places. 

It usually wasn’t a big deal. There was only ever a ceremony when a new Master was appointed, that happened far more rarely than the everyday shifts in the status of the lower ranks.

Lance’s eyes followed his little companions finger to his name and code number on the board. Apparently he was no longer a new recruit but a Level 2 assassin. How had he jumped up two ranks in one night? He thought back to last night's adventure and really couldn’t think of anything that would have caused him this kind of increase in status. Was Shiro behind this?

He supposed his new rank would make it easier for him to collect information on the organization of spies in their midst. He would be privy to way more information and resources now that he wasn’t just a new recruit. But… it came with a lot of consequences too. Lance looked around to see the others at the board were all eyeing him suspiciously. It wasn’t common for a new recruit to jump so high so fast. He could practically feel the target appearing on his back. 

He would need to be far more careful now. Dammit. Lance could only hope that his new rank would be old news soon. Surely there were more important things going on in the Blade than his status. Maybe this whole thing would just blow over?

He was distracted the entire way to breakfast. Pidge grabbed their trays of green nutrition slop and sat them at their usual table. The whole way Lance couldn’t help but feel the threatening eyes and glances that were directed toward him. This just wasn’t part of his plan, he really didn’t need this right now. Dammit, Shiro, why?

“Come on, dude! That means you can go on missions now. That's awesome!” Pidge was still trying to convince him that this was a good thing. Maybe it would have been for any other new recruit. Not so much for him. 

“Ya…..I guess….…but look around. Do you think anyone will actually want me?” Lance doubted he would be invited on any missions with the sheer amount of hostility towards him. 

“Psh. I'm sure they'll come around. You just need one mission and then you can prove how awesome you are.” 

“I'm really not. I'm nothing special honestly.”

“Thats bullshit. How can you say that? I've seen you in training. You're way better than the rest of the new recruits.” 

“Maybe. But Level 2 good?” 

Pidge shrugged. "I don't make that call but I think you deserve uh…..you deserve...."  
Their voice faltered and they stared past Lance's shoulder in surprise, eyes widening almost comically in surprise and fear.

Lance looked over his own shoulder and found Red standing right behind him. When had he gotten there? Damn that guy was good. Sneaky bastard.

“Can I sit there?” the other assassin asked from under his dark hood, gesturing at the empty stool beside Lance.

Lance looked over at Pidge, eyebrows raised in surprise, they seemed just as dumbfounded as he was.

“Uhm…sure. It's all yours?” Lance didn't know why he said it like a question. But seriously when did Red ever sit with anyone and why would he suddenly choose to sit with them? He probably came to berate him for something he did wrong on their night out. Shit. What had he done? He couldn't even remember.

Pidge stood up, making some excuse about getting back to work, though Lance was fully aware they actually had the day off from training. He threw a pleading expression their way. Pidge just shrugged and stepped away. Leaving Lance and Red alone at the table.

Lance didn’t give Red the chance to start speaking. “Uh…. so, look. Whatever it is I'm sorry, ok? If you're going to punish me or something just get it over with.” He didn’t look up into the other’s hood. He just couldn’t bear to see the disappointment that must be in those dark eyes.

“What? What are you talking about?” Red sounded genuinely confused. Lance risked a glance into the assassins face and was surprised to find an expression of pure confusion there.

“I'm guessing I did something wrong last night and you're here to make sure I know about it?” 

“Again, what the hell are you talking about?” Red seemed to be irritated now. Shit. Lance really wasn’t doing well in this conversation.

“What other reason could you have to sit with me? To even talk to me?” 

Some sort of realization dawned on the dark assassin’s face and he seemed to relax a little. “Right. About that. There's a mission and I unfortunately need a partner. Interested?”

“From what Ive heard, you only like solo missions?”

“I do.”

“But you’re looking for a partner?”

A sigh. “Even I’m forced to do team missions once in a while.”

“And you want me?” He quickly added “to join you?” when he realized the sexual implications of that phrase as a stand alone. Stupid. He could feel his cheeks colour slightly.

“Yeaaaah?”

Thankfully Red didn’t seem to notice the slip up. “Why?”

“What do you mean, ‘why’?”

“Yesterday I was a new recruit. Now you, the top assassin, want to partner with me? What gives?”

Red shrugged. “You're new so you’ll listen to my orders and stay out of my way.”

“Oh.” Lance could feel his face fall a little, though he tried to hide it. He was just a body, someone to push around. Of course the top assassin wasn’t actually interested in working with him. The thought hurt more than it should. Damn, it shouldn’t even matter. He wasn’t here for that.

Red sighed and his voice seemed to soften a bit as he spoke quietly. “I guess I just had a good feeling about you. You showed some skill last night, even if you're no where near my league.”  Was that a smirk on the assassin’s face? 

Lance narrowed his eyes but he decided he liked that smirking look. “I can't tell if you are trying to be nice or mean.”

“Who knows? So? Interested?”

“Heck ya, dude! What are we doing?” 

Another smirk, this one more amused than teasing. Shit, he had just called the Second in Command ‘dude’. Damn. He was a class A idiot. 

“Sure you don't want to know that before you agree?”

"Nah, I need this. Plus, we can handle it.” 

Red snorted and Lance stared back in stunned silence. This guy hardly seemed like the assassin from the other night. Why was he taking part in Lance's banter and even joking some? He never talked to anyone and Lance didn’t think he’d ever seen anything besides a calculating expression on his face. 

“I mean, I know I can. We will find out about you, newbie.”

“Lance.” 

“What?”

“My name. It’s Lance.” He stuck out his hand for good measure, trying to show a confidence he really didn’t feel. Why the hell was he suddenly so nervous?

Red looked at his hand with amusement and then reached his own hand forward and shook Lance’s firmly. 

"I'll remember it. That is IF you survive this mission, newbie.”

………

Lance had been wrong, very wrong. Apparently there weren’t more important things to discuss than his status within the Blade. It had been days and the hostility toward him was only growing. Maybe this whole thing wouldn’t blow over as he had hoped. 

His jump in rank wasn’t the only odd occurrence after that night’s adventures. Red also seemed to take an interest in Lance after their little midnight encounter and mission assignment. It wasn’t going unnoticed by the others within the Blade and only added to their apparent hatred of Lance. 

After their talk in the dining hall, Lance often caught the other assassin watching him across their meals, or observing his training sessions with Kolivan. Lance was pretty sure he had even seen him in the shadows of the training hall while he did his nightly drills. 

For some reason it didn’t bother Lance that Red was around. If anything it made him feel important or something. Lance didn’t get a threatening vibe from the other man. He felt more like he had gained a scary, murdery gaudian angel. He kind of liked that the other assassin was always there, it gave him an odd sense of security. A security he desperately needed now.

Lance hadn’t slept well that night, or any night since his adventure with Red. He was plagued by nightmares and couldn’t relax. He could still feel the figurative target burning on his back and it was only a matter of time until someone decided to act on their anger toward him. Lance spent his time alone or with Pidge, always watching over his shoulder. He couldn’t be too careful.

Today Lance had gotten his meal in the dining hall and sat alone. He understood the other’s hostility, he really did. Some of his colleagues had been here for years and barely made any progress through the ranks of the Blades. Of course they wouldn’t be pleased in his speedy jump in rank. They probably thought he cheated, though Lance had no idea exactly how he would have done that.

Lance tried to think of his new found infamy as a good thing, it should help with his mission. If it seemed he wasn’t wanted in the Blade, he might actually be approached by one of the spies. Plus, now that the spotlight was on him he might be more easily recognized. And that would put a target on him for a whole other reason. It might help draw out the moles though. Was this why Shiro had suddenly decided he needed to be a Level 2?

He guessed it didn’t really matter. In the meantime he would just have to deal with threats and taunting everywhere he went. After finishing his morning meal, Lance quickly sidestepped a “clumsy” Level 1 as they nearly spilled their food goo onto his crisp black training garb. Lance narrowed his eyes and was met with nothing but angry hostility from the other. Definitely intentional then. 

He grit his teeth and kept walking, he didn’t have time for a fight. Not that he really wanted one. He would let it slide today. He was going to be late for his meeting with Red. Lance quickened his pace as he left the dining hall and headed toward their designated meeting spot.

Apparently, they were going to be training for their upcoming mission in one of the Master’s private training rooms. Lance couldn’t help being nervous at the thought of training alone with one of the most skilled killers in existence. He doubted Red would actually hurt him much, but still. The butterflies continued their tumbles around his gut.

Lance was let into the training room by an untouchable. He was so busy looking around the room he hadn't realized he wasn’t alone until he felt the cold bite of metal against his neck. He froze instantly. Mind racing with all his possible next moves.

"You're distracted." Red spoke right into his ear, disapproval clear in his tone 

"Well, dammit, man I didn't think you were going to attack me the second I got here.” Lance spoke through grit teeth, still aware of the cold knife at his neck.

"You know. I still haven't figured out if you are brave or stupid?"

"Again. I don't know if you're trying to be mean or give me a complement. But obviously the answer is brave, incase you were wondering."

Red lowered the knife and stepped back a little. ”Maybe. But no one ever calls me ‘dude' or ‘man.’ It seems you don't share the other’s fear of me, that points to stupid.”

He ignored the stupid comment. ”Should I call you something else? I don't actually know your name and Red just kind of seems, i don't know...." He couldn't really say why he disliked the name. Maybe it had to do with the fact that everyone called the assassin that. Maybe it was because it was supposed to cause fear and for whatever reason Lance didn’t actually want to be afraid of his newfound partner. "You could always just tell me your name?"

"Red is the only name you need to know."

"Fine, then it's not my fault if you don't like whatever nicknames I call you.”

Red just eyed him from the darkness of his cloak. “Back to the point. If you don't want to end up a dead sack of meat you should always be prepared for an attack."

"So you're just going to randomly jump me to see if I'm paying attention?” Really Lance, ‘jump me’? Why couldn’t he have phrased that in literally any other way?

"Who knows?"

“God! Fine! I'll pay more attention.” He flung his hands up into the air as he spoke.

"Good. Then let's begin."

Red ran him through drill after drill to see his skills and weaknesses. Though Lance was pretty sure he should know them by now with all his sulking around and watching from the shadows. He said as much but the other assassin just smirked and threw more drills at him.

Apparently Lance was lacking in hand to hand fighting. Not a great surprise. He knew he wasn't the best at close combat. 

He did however get an approving nod when they tested his skill with the throwing knives and the bow. He liked the small smile he got at a particularly good shot but the Master assassin didn't congratulate Lance. He wondered what he'd have to do for the other man to actually verbally approve of him.

When their training was over Lance was a sweating mess. His limbs were shaking and he felt a satisfied ache through his body. 

"Hey. Thanks for the training. I mean, I know I'm good but I can always get better, right?" He laughed a little, embarrassed.

"If we're working together I can’t have you being a liability.” Red replied simply, no joking tone this time.

"Right. Ya makes sense, but still, thanks."

"Sure." 

Lance took that as his dismissal and turned to leave the private training room.

“Not so fast, newbie.”

Lance sighed and turned back to the other assassin. He really just wanted a shower and a snack. He raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

“The Grand Master needs to discuss the mission with us.”

“Right now?”

“Yes, now.”

“Cant I shower first? I’m a sweaty mess!”

“Trying to impress someone?” An eyebrow raise, was he being teased again?

“What? No! I just….”

“Come on. Now.”

Lance followed the cloaked assassin out of the room and through the winding rocky passages until they got to a couple of far back rooms with ornate wooden doors. There were guards outside the door, who nodded respectfully at Red and eyed him curiously.

He doubted the Grand Master needed guards as probably the most skilled killer there was. He was glad for them though, he would have hated it if Shiro was injured or killed.

Red stepped through the doors and he followed close on the assassin’s heels. 

“Ah. Good. Come in.” Shiro stood from behind his desk as he spoke. “Leave us, all of you.” He said to the few people in the room, none of whom Lance recognized.

Once the door was closed and the three assassins were left alone, Lance eyed Shiro carefully. He wasn’t really sure how to navigate this situation. No one knew they had had any previous contact. But Red was the trusted Second in Command. 

“Lance! Good to see you again kid! I trust you are hanging in there, hey?” Shiro slapped him on the shoulder.

Lance smiled up at the taller man. Apparently they didn’t need to hide here. “Hey Shiro. It’s been….interesting.”

“So Red tells me. Quite a night you had a few days ago. Have you found out anything else yet?”

Lance shook his head. “Nothing really. Though thanks to that new rank I’d say I’m solidly in the spotlight. And not in the way I usually enjoy.”

“Sorry about that kiddo, but I think its going to help you in the long run. It was Red’s idea actually and I think he was right to suggest it.”

Lance looked sharply at the third person in the room who seemed to be conveniently hiding his face in his large hood.

“Gotcha. So he knows about…….everything?”

“Not everything but he knows why you’re here and what you are trying to do. I think he will make a good go between. If you come across anything I want you to go to him with it. Understood?”

“Sure.” It was all starting to make sense. Lance’s stomach dropped as he realized this must have been the reason for Red’s interest in him as well as the reason he was chosen for this new mission. He would never have made the cut if Shiro hadn’t pulled strings for him. 

Shiro changed the conversation back to the upcoming mission. They had 3 weeks to prepare before they would have to make their move. Lance didn’t pay as close of attention to the other details of the mission as he should have. His mind kept replaying his past interactions with Red, he had thought he’d made some kind of impression on the other assassin but it hadn’t been him. It was Shiro. Red was probably ordered to even put up with him.

When they were finally dismissed Lance got that shower he desperately needed and a bit of broken rest. He couldn’t keep his mind from going back to Shiro’s office. He wished that he could do something on his own for once. He wished his new rank had been something he’d actually earned. He wished Red had noticed him for his own skill. He was so much more than Shiro’s pawn, wasn’t he?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I did a thing....Shiro you naughty boy, having a secret relationship with your assistant. That Shiro/Adam snapshot was a bit of an afterthought but it just seemed to fit. I hope you guys liked it as much as I did.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get a little bit more of Lances past in this one.
> 
>  
> 
> Trigger warning for slight panic attack. Nothing too in depth.

Lance was exhausted and sore as he walked alone toward the Level 2’s scheduled training session with Kolivan, keeping a vigilant eye on his surroundings. He hated that had to keep a close eye on anyone approaching. He didn’t want to underestimate the jealous assassins around him, people had been challenged and killed for far less among the Blades. And on top of that he now had to watch out for any tests from Red. He wouldn’t put it past the master assassin to try and catch him with his guard down.

Lance was tired, so tired. He hadn’t been sleeping well, always keeping one eye open. And throw in the brutal training with Red on top of his already wearing exercises with Kolivan and the other Level 2s….well he wasn’t sure how long he could keep this up. He just hoped his body would adjust to all the new stresses.

He fell into line with the other trainees standing on the rocky floor of the training hall. He wasn’t acknowledge in the slightest by the other assassins. It could have been worse, he supposed. Today was just not going to be a good day. He again hoped things would settle down eventually as his rank became old news. Surely there would be more important things to talk about.

Lance eyed Kolivan wearily as the tall man marched along the row of trainees with an armful of thick pieces of rope. He had sinking feeling he knew what training would be today and he tried to keep his already blossoming panic from increasing. Today really wasn’t going to be his day.

Lance wondered if Red was watching training again today, he desperately hoped not. Lance glanced up to the shadows, searching but unable to distinguish the nearly invisible assassin. Lance had no idea if Red was there. Maybe he really was just looking at shadows.

Kolivan made his way down the line, explaining the exercise. Lance wasn’t listening. Kolivan stopped at Lance's end of the line, where a short and thin recruit waited. Lance didn't pay attention to who was beside him. Instead he was more focussed on the fact that he would be next, assuming Kolivan worked his way down the line and each recruit got a turn. 

His breathing increased and his eyes focussed intently on the rope as it was tied around the other trainee’s wrists. Lance could practically see the fibres of the rope. He could hear his own heat pounding in his ears. He willed himself to stay still focussing on his breathing. This couldn't be happening. He really couldn't show weakness like this in front of the others. He needed desperately to calm down, keep control of himself. 

Lance closed his eyes. Trying to steady himself, talk himself down from the ledge. He knew what was coming, he knew he could get out of it. All he had to do was stay calm for five damn minutes. 

Lance opened his eyes when he heard Kolivan stop in front of him. The big man was looking down at him with a curious, somewhat concerned gaze. His eyes questioning as he held out the rope. Lance ignored him and held out his arms in front of him, wrists together. The motion of surrender sent a wave of nausea through him and he shuddered as the rope met the thin, tight fabric thankfully covering his wrists. 

Kolivan seemed to sense his discomfort and tied the knots quickly but not loosely. Lance's hands were shaking with the effort not to panic, his nails digging into his own palms as he tried desperately not to fight, not to run. He needed to stay strong, just a little longer. Just until he could get away from the group. 

He couldn't hear what Kolivan said through the buzzing in his ears but he was keenly aware of the finished knots holding his wrists uncomfortably tight. He closed his eyes, not wanting to look down at his bindings. He tested them by pulling and nearly sobbed as his wrists didn't even move. This would take longer than he could safely handle. But he had no choice.

Lance kept his eyes closed and counted his breaths as he worked on the knots, his mind unhelpfully supplying memories of other times he spend with his wrists bound. He was slowly loosing control, he could feel the shaking edge to his quickening breaths, his too fast heartbeat. 

He hit a snag in his escape from the rope and nearly fell to his knees as he held back another sob. He had effectively tightened one of the pieces he had worked so hard to loosen, putting himself back a few steps and extending his time in this captive state. The only thing keeping him standing there was his promise to Shiro, his mission. He could not show weakness anymore than he already had. All their lives could depend on it. 

Lance just barely hung onto his sanity until finally his hands were loose. He dropped the rope were he stood and purposefully walked out of the room, careful to keep his face blank. If he had managed to keep his panic mostly hidden from the others there was no way he could lose his composure now. He didn't know if anyone had protested to his leaving and he didn't care.

As soon as he was out of the training hall he ran, putting as much distance as he could between himself and his memories. He couldn't breath properly and he felt like he was choking. Lance sunk into a dark corner, letting the stone press uncomfortably into his back as he was pulled into the hell waiting for him in his own mind. 

..............

Keith had been watching the training and he knew something was wrong the second the rope touched Lance's skin. He was pale and Keith thought he could see the other boys shaking from here. Dammit. What was going on? Should he go down there?

There was no indication on Lance's face, he looked calm and confident as he closed his eyes but Keith was surprised to find he knew him better than that. Lance never closed his eyes when he was around others he didn't trust. He used all his senses well and was one observant fucker. 

He would never close his eyes during training, not even to come off as a confidant, cocky ass. Keith knew about his mission to gather intel for Shiro and he knew Lance wouldn't risk that for anything. Lance must have had a reason for it but Keith couldn't understand what it was. Was he ill?

Keith bit his bottom lip, worries dancing through his mind as his eyes stayed locked on the other boy. He quickly glanced at the other recruits but none of them seemed off. They probably weren't aware of their struggling companion. Good. Lance really didn't need more enemies, more idiots trying to take his place. 

Kolivan, though, he seemed to be unusually stiff as he closely monitored his charge. What was he waiting for? Keith doubted he'd ever seen Kolivan watch a recruit with such intensity as they completed one of his drills. He wasn't the type to babysit his trainees and often let them get hurt or stay in bindings until they finally figured out how to do what he asked. Something definitely wasn't right. 

Keith had to focus on not pacing in the shadows. He wasn’t supposed to be watching. He wasn’t supposed to take a special interest in any members of the blade. And he certainly wasn’t supposed to want to defend them or protect them. That was how you got killed.

Keith breathed a sigh of relief when the ropes dropped from Lance's hands. He was quick to escape, probably quicker even than Keith could have been. Nothing had happened. So what was with Lance’s odd behaviour?

Lance turned on his heel and walked out of the room, his body screaming tension. What the hell was going on? Kolivan hadn't called him back or said anything other than roughly encouraging his other student to beat Lance's time. Keith scoffed internally, that was highly unlikely. Lance was fast as hell with the rope.

Keith couldn't stop himself, and went to follow Lance. Concern continued to snake through his mind when the other assassin took some work to locate. He finally found him curled up in a hidden alcove between a pillar and wall. The other boy looked so small, so scared. He hardly looked like the lively kid Keith had started training with. The little alcove provided barely enough space for the lanky boy who seemed to shrink into the stone walls.

Keith approached slowly and Lance whimpered, cowering further into his corner. Keith slowly lowered his hand onto the boys trembling knee. Lance flinched violently at the contact. 

“Hey kid. Its just me.” He tried to reassure. Lance looked at him with clouded eyes, like he wasn’t really seeing him. There was no recognition in those dull blue eyes, only fear. Damn, he wasn’t good with stuff like this. Maybe…..

"Lance ....?" Keith tentatively tried again. He spoke more softly, gently rubbing his thumb on Lance's knee. Maybe the boys name would help bring him back from whatever nightmare he was apparently reliving.

Lance seemed to jerk back to reality, his eyes clearing and his hands grabbing desperately at his own wrists. His breathing quick and panicked until he recognized Keith squatting in front of him.

"Red?" Lance asked uncertainty in his voice.

"Ya, it's me. We're at the base for the Blades. You're okay." He assured quietly, still rubbing circles with his thumb. 

Lance let out a shuddering breath and looked down at his wrists. Confused at first. 

"Oh no, what happened? You were watching, right?” He whispered desperately. 

Keith nodded. He had wondered earlier if Lance could see him. The boy had been searching the shadows right where he'd been hiding. Lance definitely had keen senses to know he was there.

"Did I.....do anything weird?" Lance asked hesitantly, like he didn't really want to know the answer. 

Keith shook his head, not really sure what Lance counted as weird. "No, but maybe we shouldn't talk here.”

Lance nodded and let Keith pull him out of his corner. Keith didn't miss the hand Lance kept against the wall as he stood. Or the shaking legs and the deep, too deliberate breaths.

Keith should have probably told Lance to meet him somewhere but he hated the idea of leaving him alone right now. Who cares if anyone saw them together, they were partners now, after all. So, instead he pulled Lance's arm around his shoulder and helped steady him as he steered them through a maze of tunnels to his own, out of the way, quarters.

…….  
Lance let Red haul him wherever by his still shaking arm. He wasn't paying attention he just focussed on his breathing as his mind whirled. He wasn't fully back in reality and he swore he could still feel the weight of chains and ropes and hands on his wrists. He stifled a sob, trying to only focus on Red pulling him by the arm. That was he only thing touching him now, it was keeping him grounded in reality, even just a little bit.

He was vaguely aware of a door opening and closing behind them. And shortly after he was pushed gently into a chair. The hand around his arm left him and he started shaking again, closing his eyes as memories swirled in his mind.   
He continued breathing, counting, breathing, counting.

He opened his eyes again when the hand returned, this time squeezing his shoulder as something was pushed into one of his hands. Water, Lance realized as he looked at it. He didn't bother smelling it before he took a few large gulps desperately trying to swallow down the tightness in his throat. He was surprised to find it helped a little. 

"Lance......?" Red sounded unsure, gentle. It was a little weird but he liked it.

“You….you called me by my name?” He asked, sort of confused. Red only ever called him things like newbie or kid.

“Do you want me not to?”

“No I just….I thought you actually didn’t remember it.” Lance admitted, not entirely keeping the sadness out of his voice. He looked down at wrists again, rubbing them gently to help dispel the feeling of the rope fibres.

“Of course I remember.” Red said, quietly and sincere. His tone caused Lance to look up into those greyish purple eyes. There was some emotion swimming there that he couldn’t quite decide on. "Can you tell me what that was?" 

Lance didn't think he could. Not that he didn't want to, he kind of did. But he didn't trust his voice, didn't trust himself not to break down again. He really didn't want to be weak, not in front of Red.

So he did the only thing he could think of. Lance slowly started pulling up the long sleeves of his uniform. He swallowed and pushed them quickly and forcibly up above elbows before he could change his mind.

He rested his arms on the surface in front of him, some kind of counter which Red was standing on the other side of. Lance turned his palms upward and lowered his head, unable to look at the man in front of him. He could feel the shame and guilt bubbling to the surface of his already anxious mind.

He could hear the sharp intake of breath in front of him. He didn't move, didn't look up. He kept his face tucked into his shoulder and his eyes closed. He waited. 

Partially gloved hands reached over to him and he flinched hard as they trailed over his wrists. They were gentle, so he forced himself not to move. Calloused fingers trailed up his right arm over the brand on the inside of his forearm. He shivered involuntarily.

He could do this. He could trust Red.  
.....

Whatever Keith expected, it wasn't that. The boy in front of him had his head tucked tightly into his shoulder, eyes closed. His arms lay between them, palms up in a somewhat submissive position. He was putting trust in Keith, that or he didn't care what happened next. 

Keith couldn't help his own sharp breath as he saw what Lance had always kept covered. The boy’s wrists were marred with layers of uneven, jagged scar tissue. He must have been shackled and tied repeatedly for that kind of scarring. Those were the kind of scars that would cause pain for years, even after they healed. It almost physically hurt Keith to look at the brutalized skin.

But nowhere near as much as it hurt to see the ugly brand covering the tan arm in front of him. It was large and long, wrapping halfway around the others forearm. It nearly reached from the crease of Lance's elbow to his wrist. 

It too looked painful, even though it was long healed. The band had been burned in and not carefully either. The skin looked melted in places, like it had liquified around the heat. It was still blistered and angry looking with patched colors of red, white and brown. Even with all of that the brand was clear enough. 

It was a slave brand. And not just any kind of slave brand, either. It was a Galran slave brand. Keith’s stomach dropped. He didn't know who’s exact brand it was but it didn't matter. The Galra were all known for their cruelty and maltreatment of slaves. The brand was no different. Most people chose to tattoo their slaves now. It was far less cruel and less likely to cause infection. The Galra obviously didn’t care.

Had Lance grown up with such cruelty? Keith couldn't help but wonder how the other boy would react if he found out about Keith's own heritage.Their would be no coming back from that. Keith raised one hand to quickly check that his hood was still in place, keeping the purple marking running up his neck well out of sight. Lance would probably never trust a Galra, even a half Galra, if he had experienced even a fraction of the abuse and cruelty the Galran slave masters were known for.

Keith couldn't help but gently run his hands over the scars, wishing he could take away everything they stood for. He didn't miss the harsh flinch from Lance as he touched him but he didn't pull away. Just watched the other boy cautiously to make sure he wasn’t making him too uncomfortable. Lance seemed to relax with the touch though.

“Lance…..I….”

Lance shook his head, still not looking at Keith.

“I didn’t know, no wonder you didn’t like Kolivan’s lesson. At least you held it together in there. You did good.”

Lances eyes snapped up suddenly. “What? No. I did horribly, I barely passed and I ran like a scared little kid.”

“No. You’re wrong. Lance, you had the quickest escape time I’ve ever seen and I doubt anyone noticed your panic.”

“You did.” His voice was so small.

“Ya, well. I guess I’ve spent enough time around you to notice some things.” Keith left unsaid that most of that time could be considered stalking as he watched Lance from the darkness.

For some reason, Keiths admission seemed to cheer the other boy up marginally. “Well listen, Lance, since you trusted me with this I feel like maybe I should share something too. A secret for a secret?”

Lance just stared at him, waiting.

“You asked me my name before. Its…. Keith.”

“Keith.” Lance repeated, testing the name. “Keith. I like it.”

“Ya?”

“It suits you.” Lance smiled a small, soft smile. He looked more relaxed. Good, he had managed to distract him even a little from the botched training session.

“You can stay here until you calm down……if you want to?” Keith said, his voice steadier than he felt. Why did he so badly want to keep this boy here, away from everyone else?

“Thanks, Re….I mean Keith.” Lance pulled his sleeves back down over his arms and clutched the cuffs in his hands, covering his wrists fully. He crossed his arms on the counter and lowered his head to rest on top of them.

Keith watched as the younger boy’s breathing evened out and he slept. He didn’t look too comfortable and at least he was sleeping. The darkening eye bags and pale skin hadn’t gone unnoticed. Lance was obviously not resting well lately, so he let him sleep there on his counter. It was oddly comforting to have another person there, even if he was just quietly sleeping. Keith couldn’t help but feel a little bubble of warmth as he realized he couldn’t remember the last time anyone had trusted him enough to actually sleep in front of him. This kid was definitely an idiot. He smiled to himself as he watched over his sleeping companion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter done! Sorry it was a day late. 
> 
> I hope you guys are liking it.   
> As always I am really loving the comments and kudos. I just keep reading them when I get stuck or lose motivation and it helps me get back into it.   
> So thank you very very much!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wont lie to you, this chapter is angsty af and their is quite a bit of action in it too. We get to see some actual assassination stuff here. Enjoy!
> 
> Trigger warning for: Blood and violence. Graphic depictions of killing and death.

Lance kept his pace, training and planning almost constantly, he was getting far more used to the lack of sleep and he felt less exhaustion. Either way their mission was coming up fast. One week to go. 

The more time he spent with the Master Assassin the more Lance realized he acted like two separate people. Lance even treated him like two separate people. He supposed it was a necessity. No one knew that Keith even existed here, Red was who he was to the Blades.

Red the brooding, silent killer. With the cold eyes and calculating stare. He was terrifying, inspiring and quite frankly impressive. He commanded everyone in the base (except Shiro, of course) and had the skill to kill them all if he needed to (again probably not Shiro). 

Then there was Keith. Lance knew that there was almost nobody who knew that version of the boy. Lance was one of maybe a handful of people who did. He knew Shiro was another one in the loop. Part of Lance wanted to be the only one who knew this version of the older assassin but at the same time he wished more people could see what Keith was actually like.

Keith was funny, sarcastic and a bit of an ass. He was surprisingly easy to get along with and fun. He had started to trust Lance more and they shared some stories. Nothing of real importance but they were getting there. Lance figured that they were starting to actually trust each other. Maybe they were even friends?

It was becoming increasingly strange to see both the persona and the person. The rank and the actual man. Lance was relatively sure he could tell which version of Keith was walking up to him at any given moment. He held himself different as Red. He was all work. All sharp edges. He was to be respected and feared. 

Red was who Lance was seeing now. He was stern and serious. He was demanding Lance's attention. There'd be no joking and goofing off at today's training. Red was tough and would be keeping Lance on his toes today. 

Lance sighed and jumped back into the drills, keenly aware of those dark eyes watching him closely. 

……..

Missions and partnerships were not announced the same way that ranks were. Yet, somehow the entire underground city was buzzing with the knowledge that Red had chosen Lance to accompany him on a high stakes mission into Galran territory. The news made Lance very uneasy. It was obviously a breach in the Blade’s security for someone to have found that information and shared it so freely.

This could mean a lot of trouble for Lance. First of all, the rats in the organization were getting more cocky, that was never good. Second, they seemed to be targeting him. Sure as shit this announcement, along with his earlier increase in rank, would make him the most hated member of the Blade. And third, it made their mission far harder. Who’s to say that if so many people knew about their mission they would not share that news? 

They could be walking into a trap here. He was going to have to discuss this with Keith and Shiro. But that would have to wait until tomorrow. He knew Red had a mission tonight and there was no way he could walk up to Shiro and demand an audience. Besides, Shiro had probably already heard about the leak and was working on a plan.

Instead of sitting around worrying, Lance took the time to practice with the several poisonous ingredients the Blades kept in their training room. They really weren’t anythings special. Now that Lance had spent some time studying them and practicing their uses he realized why they were probably so accessible. They weren’t the most lethal poisons, they weren’t really even that interesting. And all of them had antidotes that were easily accessible as well.

These combinations of ingredients were mostly useful to slow people down, good for tipping weapons with but less good for actual poisonings. Lance knew there were a few assassins here who worked almost exclusively with poison and he wished he knew more about them. He made a mental note to add that to the list of things to discuss with Keith.

He was at the point now where he really couldn’t do anything further with the ingredients he had. He wanted to experiment more, he wanted to try things that no one else had and come up with new ways to use rare ingredients. Lance was fascinated by poisons but he was disappointingly underwhelmed by what he had to work with.

Lance had found an interesting book about other poisonous ingredients in the small and frankly neglected library deep in the underground tunnels. He would have to keep an eye out for those ingredients when he finally got to leave for a mission. He was seriously looking forward to getting out of these dark and cold halls. Sure, the rocks were dark and cold but the people seemed to make it even more so. He needed a break. He needed some sun and some air.

He decided that he would take the night to himself and started for his room. Maybe he would make a list of ingredients he might be able to locate on their upcoming journey. Keith was gone so he didn’t have to worry about any training or surprise attacks. Maybe Pidge would be around and he could just relax with them for a little.

………

This was where Keith shone. He wasn’t good at ranged attacks the same way Lance was. No, he loved the closeness the proximity to his target. He loved to watch as the life left their eyes and the blood dripped down his hands. It was sick, some part of him registered that. But the world was sick and he would take enjoyment where he found it.

Besides. He was an assassin and a skilled one. It was nothing but an asset in his line of work to have a proclivity for gore and death. Though Lance didn’t seem to share his interest in face to face kills he didn’t totally shy away from Keith’s preferences and for some reason that was a win in his books.

And here he was thinking of Lance again. Why did it even matter what that newbie thought? Why did he care? He never cared about anyone, its what made him such a good assassin, such a good killer. Keith mentally shook himself. No more thoughts of that blue eyed boy. Right now he needed to focus.

He continued his climb up the rock tower, he could see the faint glowing light coming from the window above him. It was quiet and he moved with practiced ease up the wall, his movements slow and fluid, silent.

He stopped beside the ledge of the window, able to see in from this vantage point but still blending into the darkness. He was always surprised at people’s stupidity. They assumed if they were high up and their door was guarded they didn’t have to worry. They never considered that their lights were like shining beacons that let others look in but impeded their vision out. They never considered the monsters in the darkness. They were content in their perceived safety.

He watched his target leave the room, no one else in sight. Perfect. He slowly opened the window fully, it wasn’t even locked. Keith snuck into the room, uncomfortable in the sudden dim lighting. He looked around and decided on his hiding place, an attached room with no windows where the light didn’t reach. A study of some kind? It didn’t really matter.

He waited in the quiet for his target to return, his blade already comfortably in his hand. He was tempted to look through the papers on the desk in front of him, but that wasn’t his priority. If he had the time he would look after his target was dead. They already knew this man was guilty of trafficking people and weapons and they had their suspicions he was allied with the Galra. He was on their kill list already. It didn’t matter if they found evidence of his other crimes. He would need to die regardless.

Keith heard the door open again and one set of footsteps enter. Again, what an idiot. He didn’t even have his guards check the room before he entered. Not that Keith was really complaining. He was just used to having to work harder for his kills.

Eventually the man’s light went out and he heard the creak of the bed as he settled in for the night. Perfect. He loved it when people woke up in a panic, their fate already sealed. He waited. Keith could feel his excitement and adrenaline mounting and he revealed in the feeling. 

Eventually it was time, he moved from his hiding place and back into the main room. He picked up one of the mans own fancy garments and took it over toward the bed. He looked down at the quietly snoring man who was completely and blissfully unaware that he was breathing his last breaths.

Keith spun the garment in his hands and waited for an open mouthed snore before ramming it between the mans teeth and pulling it tight behind his head as the man jolted upright in bed. He tied the fabric tight in a couple of quick motions, effectively gagging the man. Keiths knife was at the mans throat before he could even think of making any more movements. 

Keith crouched over the other man in his own bed, his face completely hidden in the darkness of his hood. It didn’t matter, he saw recognition in the mans face as his eyes grew large at the sight of the knife Keith held. Red’s knife was well known and it never failed to bring a fearful glint to the eyes of his targets. Red was merciless and couldn’t be bought. If he was close enough for you to see his knife then you were already dead.

Keith smiled within his hood, knowing full well the other man couldn’t see it. He didn’t waste his time on a grand speech or any type of speech. Noise was how you got yourself caught. Instead he simply plunged his knife into the mans throat. Severing his wind pipe and carotid artery in one go. 

There was a barely audible gargled choke as the blood and air moved through the newly made hole. The fountain of blood that quickly pulsed from the wound at each beat of the man’s soon to be still heart was a sight of beauty. One that Keith would never be tired of. It wasn’t a noisy death but it was definitely a messy one. He could practically picture the chaos that would ensue when the guards came in in the morning. 

He crouched over the man until his body stilled and the blood slowly seeped from the wound, no longer the geyser it was before. He stood slowly, grabbing more of the mans expensive clothing to wipe the blood from his armour and his skin. He was eternally gratefully for such a wonderful uniform. It never absorbed blood and was easy to keep clean even after the events of tonight. The last thing an assassin needed was a trail of his targets blood to follow him into the night.

Keith dropped the now saturated fabric onto the cooling corpse in the fancy sheets. He listened outside the door but heard only the sound of soft voices and distant noise. It looked like he would have a little time to search through the side office he had been hiding in.

Keith shuffled through the paperwork finding nothing of interest. There were trade agreements for harvests, ledgers for shipping, nothing that had anything to do with the Blade or the Galra. Keith looked through the drawers under the desk and found only writing utensils and spare papers. He was about to give up when he saw two letters, both still sealed.

He picked them up and was about to open the first one when there was movement outside the bedroom door. He froze, listening. Shit, it looked like his time was up. He unceremoniously shoved the letters into his cloak and leapt through the still open window.

He didn’t look back at his dead target or the people who screamed when they discovered the gruesome scene and the body. He disappeared into the darkness, and easily descended the tower. He quietly and quickly started his journey home, giddy with his success and the thrill of a fresh kill.

……..

Lance sat up in his bed as he thought about the group of spies in their midst. It was late and it was dark. He could hear a few short snores from down the hall, but most of the bunks were empty tonight. He wished Pidge were here to talk with but they must have picked up some extra training periods. Lance just couldn’t relax, his thoughts kept him awake. He had too much on his mind and he didn't quite trust the other Blades at the moment, especially not after the circling gossip today.

He wished he had more information to hand to Shiro. He wished he had found something useful about the spies in their underground city. But there hadn’t been much to tell. Not since that first night with Red and the sentry. He felt like he wasn’t doing his job here. He’d found very little of anything.

Suddenly Lance sat up a little straighter as the hairs on his neck stood up. A chill ran up his spine and he suddenly felt like there were eyes on him. He stilled, searching the darkness, listening intently. Maybe it was just his body reacting to his negative thoughts. Was he just being paranoid?

There. Something flashed in the darkness and Lance threw a hand out, intercepting a small knife as it flew toward his jugular. Unfortunately, Lance had intercepted the blade portion and felt a long cut run down his hand and wrist as the blade hit the floor with a quiet tinkle of metal. Well, better his wrist than his neck he supposed. 

Lance jumped to his feet, still on top of his bed. He couldn't make out the would be killer in the darkness but he'd seen the trajectory of the blade. Thankfully, Lance always had at least some of his knives on him. He pulled a dagger from his boot and lunged forward off his bed. 

He collided solidly with a body and they were a tangled mess of limbs and darkness. They pulled apart but the attacker didn’t move too far away, didn’t make any motion to retreat. This wasn’t meant to be a chase, this was an assassination attempt. Still barely able to see who he was fighting, Lance used his instincts more than his sight and could practically feel the person in front of him.

He wasn’t wearing his Blade armour so Lance covered some of his vital spots in a defensive stance, senses always open to any new noise of movement. He could almost see the other person by pinpointing the quiet breaths, the small shifts of clothing and the little movements of air the stagnant caves. Every once in a while Lance would make a move, alway just barely missing his target. They circled each other in quiet proximity, neither able to get the upper hand.

Finally, Lance felt his knife sink into soft flesh, felt the resistance as it met bone and the grating slide as it moved around it into the softer tissue. Was that a lower rib? It felt like it. His opponent dropped and Lance knew they were out, they had lost and would be dead soon. 

Lance wasn’t willing to let his attacker slowly bleed out. There was always a chance they could rally and reciprocate. Lance sunk into a crouch and felt for the assailants neck and head. He slowly lowered his already bloody knife into the socket of one of his attackers eyes. He pushed it hard, feeling it give and slide easily into the others brain. There would be no coming back from that. 

Lance wiped his knife quickly on the corpses clothes and backed himself into a wall near his bed, still crouched and waiting. There could be more than one attacker. The cut running up his hand and arm still bled, a trail of wet warmth sliding down his arm and hand. Lance’s knife dripped his own blood onto the floor as he held it in front of him, ready. 

He had blocked most of the attacks but still would have some nasty bruises and cuts. He didn't think about it too much. The adrenaline coursing through his veins numbed the pain and kept his senses sharp. The attack had been quick and quiet, the others down the hallway still slept peacefully. He listened to the snores as he crouched there in the mixing pools of blood. Lance would wait and he would watch. He couldn't trust them, any of them. 

…..

Keith had made it back from his mission and had barely fallen asleep when he was woken by a loud and aggressive pounding on his door. It was the early hours of the morning, and he was rarely woken for anything. People didn’t tend to come to the Second in Command for their problems unless it was majorly important.

He bolted out of bed, grabbing his weapons and throwing his hood up. He undid the many locks and traps on the door and opened it a small crack. 

"What?" He snapped grouchily, glaring at the small person on the other side. 

"Uh, right. There's a situation.....I thought.... Uh you might be the only one who could deal with it."

Keith recognized the new recruit who'd been sitting with Lance the first day, and quite often since. They were obviously still a little intimidated by him. Not holding eye contact and shuffling constantly. Keith did nothing to assuage the others fear, he wanted his rank and his reputation to scare the others in the guild.

"You thought? You?" He made his voice darker, condescending. "I don't answer to you" he growled, reaching to close the door. 

He watched as the other’s eyes widened and they seemed to grow more bold. “It's..... It's Lance. He's your partner, right? Do you at least answer to duty because that's why I'm here." Those hazel eyes glared into him and he couldn't deny he was kind of impressed with the defiance in the small voice. 

"What about Lance?" He asked keeping his voice unconcerned though his mind was suddenly running through scenarios of why Lance would be the reason he was so abruptly woken at this time of day.

"No one can get near him. He... I don't know what happened but he's injured and we can't get him to let us close enough to help." The kid must be part of the healers branch of the Blade. They also sounded a bit desperate toward the end, just how bad was it?

"Fine. Take me there and you will explain everything on the way." He hurried after the small healer, wishing their small legs could go faster. 

………

The first thing Keith saw was the blood, then the body. It wasn't pretty. Keith saw Lance crouched near the wall, blade in hand and a cold glint to his eyes. He was definitely in assassin mode. Keith had never seen the other boy look quite like this, but he recognized the eyes of a killer.

A healer tried approaching, speaking with kind and gentle words. Lance didn't listen, he growled lowly and swung his knife out in front of him. A clear warning, not to get so close. The healer jumped back, they were prepared for the attack. It probably wasn’t the first time Lance had threatened them. 

Keith knew the other boy wasn’t actively trying to kill the healers, though. Lance was on the defensive presently. Not to say he wouldn’t kill them if they were to actually get into his space. Keith was pretty sure the other boy wouldn’t even hesitate.

Keith could see the blood dripping from Lance’s arm, it wasn't arterial but he was still losing blood quickly. If the already growing pool of blood beneath Lance’s arm was any indication.

Keith stepped forward without a word, pulling his own blade out in front of himself. There was no way Lance would listen to any of them right now. Keith didn't blame him, he knew at least part of Lance’s past and he'd deduced a bit of what had happened. Lance would be an idiot if he trusted anyone right now.

Keith continued to move forward until he was in range of Lance. He got a warning, just as the healer had. Maybe if he forced the other boy to actually attack for real?

Keith ignored the warning and stepped closer to Lance, knife at the ready.Their blades clanging in the air as they met with force. Lance glared down at Keith through their crossed blades. It took a second but Lance’s eyes slowly widened as he recognized Red’s blade and then Keith’s face. 

"Put the blade down, Lance. We aren't here to hurt you."

"You first.” Lance’s voice was threatening.

Keith pushed Lance back and held his hands up before the other could charge him again. He slowly slipped his blade back into its sheath and raised his hands, his eyes never leaving Lance's suspicious blue ones. 

Lance seemed to relax a little, letting out a long, slow breath. He put the dagger back in his boot, not even bothering to wipe off the blood first. It probably didn’t matter at that moment, Lance had been sitting in blood and his boots were probably soiled anyway. 

Lance still eyed the healers suspiciously, making no move to step away from the wall. 

Keith motioned for the others to back off and give them some space. They obeyed instantly, all well aware of Red’s rank and authority. They were suddenly quite alone in the little alcove that was Lance’s room.

Keith kept his eyes on Lance as he moved toward the body. Keith could see the injuries inflicted there. The dead man’s internal organs had been punctured. That would have killed him slowly. But Lance hadn’t waited, instead opting to stab through the eye socket. Keith was proud of his student. Apparently he was actually learning something in their frequent training sessions. Never leave your opponent an opening to attack you.

Lance stepped forward slowly and Lance crouched down by the head of his dead attacker. His face was no longer hostile, instead it was carefully blank. Keith recognized the others movements and stepped back a little to watch.

This time Keith was expecting the prayer or ritual or whatever it was. He was curious. That nagging feeling of recognitions drove him to pay close attention to the other boy’s actions and words.

Again, Lance leaned over the body moving his hands as he spoke soft words of comfort and peace. Keith couldn't understand why Lance would ask for something so kind for someone who'd tried to murder him in his sleep.

Lance's hands again floated over the body and through the air, making graceful shapes and patterns. It was strangely soothing to watch, mesmerizing in a way. Lance ended the prayer by closing the single dead, staring eye with his thumb and motioning upwards. Before bringing his hands back to his own mouth to kiss his knuckles. Lance didn’t even seem to register the blood still smeared there.

“Why do you do that?” Keith asked, curiously. 

“It's for peace.” Lance voice was quiet, his tone surprisingly emotionless.

“He tried to kill you. Do you actually believe he deserve peace?” Keith was surprised at the bite of spitefulness in his own voice.

“I never said it was for him. It....helps with the closure. Makes me feel like I'm not killing without understanding the consequences.” 

Keith just nodded. Lance was soft hearted, a killer too, but one who felt things far deeper than most. He’d never thought about how hard it might be for Lance to deal with the dead, knowing he’d killed them.

"Come on, we need to get you out of here.” Keith said quietly, gently as he watched the adrenaline fade and exhaustion return to Lances face. "Let's get you bandaged, then you need to tell me exactly what happened."

"Fine. But not here."

Keith nodded again and walked out of the room with Lance close on his heels. The group of healers was just outside the curtain to the dorms. Keith jerked his head to the little healer who'd come to get him. “You, come with us" he said, leaving no room for discussion.  
He saw the little healer freeze momentarily and then eye Lance before nodding and shuffling up to them. The hazel eyes watching Lance carefully.

Keith saw Kolivan approaching and nodded to him. They both understood that this needed to be kept as quiet as possible. He would let Kolivan deal with this and he would get Lance somewhere else to get patched up while he tried to sort out this mess. None of them would be getting any sleep tonight.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter is a little bit rushed but the next one will be better, promise!

“Are you alright, kiddo? I heard what happened last night.”

“Im fine. Just a scratch. Nothing Pidge couldn’t fix right up.”

“Ok. Good, I’m glad to hear it.”

“Thanks, Shiro.” Shiro nodded, his expression serious. “You must be getting close to something if people are trying to kill you. Watch yourself Lance.”

“I don’t think that’s really it. I honestly haven’t found anything. I think it’s probably just someone who’s mad about my rank or the mission.”

“They weren’t a Blade, Lance.” Keith spoke up, his tone dark.

“Well, it can’t be unheard of for people to hire someone to do their dirty work, even here right?”

Shiro spoke up. “Its unusual but not unheard of. Why would they want to keep their identity secret though. It’s not outside of the rules to challenge other assassins.”

“They probably knew they couldn’t beat him in a fair fight.”

Lance looked over at Keith in surprise. Was that actually a compliment?

Shiro raised his eyebrows at the dark haired assassin. “Regardless, keep an eye out. Both of you. And Lance, no one who wasn’t there that night knows what happened. Let's try and keep it that way.”

“Got it, Shiro. It’s not really something I want to talk about anyway.”

“Good. Now let’s talk about that leak in your mission status.”

Lance listened as Shiro explained what they had found out. Basically nothing. They had no idea where the information breach had occurred or who had started spreading the gossip. They were all reasonably worried about it but there really wasn’t anything to do at this point besides continue investigating the spies.

“I think there’s not enough information for us to stop this mission. We need that intel, so it’s worth the risk. Do you want me to assign another person with the two of you?”

Keith and Lance both shook their heads in unison. They could do this on their own. Plus who would they be able to trust now anyway?

“Very well then. We will stick to the plan.”

“Agreed.” Keith said.

“Yup, sounds good.” Lance raised his hands with a double thumbs up.

 

………..

 

Keiths mind floated in a dream that was real. A memory he didn't quite remember:

_A young, child Keith walked behind the tall armoured Galran. His head hung low, staring at the ground. He avoided the searching eyes of the other Galrans they passed. He was sure they were staring at his own purple neck tattoo._

_They all had the swirling purple marks that whirled up one side of the neck, from shoulder to jaw. But Keith lacked the lavender skin, the pointed ears, the sheer size of the others. He was so obviously not full Galran and he was reminded of it frequently. The only indicator of his half breed status was the purple tattoo. One he would only grow to hate more._

_Even after they had passed the others, he could still hear the comments bouncing around in his head. He ignored the whispered "halfbreed" and "slaveblood" that followed him wherever he went._

_They entered a small building at the edge of the plantation, near the slave quarters._

_The smell of sickness hung in the air and Keith had to hold his breath initially until he slowly got used to the too sweet smell._

_Keith stayed at the edge of the room, not following the bigger Galra man into the room. He knew what he would find and he was scared to face it. Keiths mother was sick, she had been for days. He knew what it meant when the healers had sent for him. She didn’t have long left._

_Instead of going to his mother’s bedside he watched the young healer’s boy hustle around following his mother's orders. He brought her everything she asked for, occasionally before she even asked for it. The boy didn’t seem afraid. He seemed perfectly comfortable around death and illness. Keith didn’t understand it. He himself was far from his comfort zone._

_Eventually Keith heard Thace, the Galran man he had followed, call him forward. His mother wished to speak with him._

_Keith gathered his courage and stepped close to the bedside. Trying to hold down his tears at the sight of his weak mother._

_His mother speaks to him in a quiet but serious voice. She tells him to leave the Galra. To go with Thace and to join the Blade. There was nothing there for him anymore and she wouldn’t be able to protect him. Keith would never be treated fairly with a slave for a father. He would be lucky if he wasn’t killed before he reached adulthood._

_Keith watched his mother die just after that. It wasn’t a big thing, it was nothing like it should have been._

_He watched as she just quietly closed her eyes and stopped breathing._

_Keith looked up at the boy on the other side of his mother’s sick bed. He knew tears were streaming down his own face at the thought that he had just lost the last person he loved._

_He knew those shaking sobs were coming from him but he didn’t feel anything in that moment. He felt only numbness._

_Keith watched and he cried as the other boy did some ritual with the healer. It was almost like a dance and it somehow made Keith feel marginally better. He watched as the boy’s hands touched his mother’s eyelids before gesturing to the heavens. He watched as the boy kissed his own knuckles before meeting Keith’s eyes._

_He could see the other boy’s bright blue eyes staring at him with a quiet compassion and sadness._

_Those eyes were full of feeling. Full of understanding. They were gleaming with those emotion. The shining blue orbs almost seemed to glow in the darkness.  Keith couldn't look away, couldn't break the eye contact._

 

Those glowing blue eyes followed Keith into his waking world. The bright blue imprinted on the insides of his eyelids even as he opened them. He knew those eyes. Even now. It had been a long time since had Keith thought of his mother or her death. Was that really how it had happened? He couldn't be sure as the dream’s clarity faded with each waking moment. He remembered those stark blue eyes though.

Were those the eyes he thought they were? Was that real or was it just a dream brought on by the events of early that morning? Had he actually met Lance as a child or was he simply appearing in his dreams now? Was it because of that ritual he had seen Lance do, the one that had seemed so familiar? Parts of that had to be real. He remembered some of it for sure. But was all of it real or simply his imagination filling in the blanks?

…………

 

Keith could not get that damned dream or memory or whatever out of his head. Every time he saw those blue eyes he was reminded again of what he’d seen in his dream the night before. He had to talk to Lance about it. He was too curious not to. What if everything he had see was really a memory? He decided he would have to open up to Lance a little bit and hope that the other boy did the same.

Keith had been toying with the idea of telling Lance his heritage for the last few days. If they were going on a mission together it might be harder to hide. Besides, he just felt like he could share things with Lance and right now he wasn’t. It would ruin any progress their friendship had made if Lance found out without Keith telling him.

He decides to show Lance at training. He wanted Lance to walk into the Master’s training hall and see him training without a cloak on and his purple marking on full display. That way he could gauge the other boys reaction and Lance could ask him about it if he wanted to initiate the conversation. It was a perfect plan.

Or it would have been if Lance wasn’t so damn punctual. He was there before Keith today, effectively ruining the idea. Keith had to tell him today if he was going to tell him at all. They were running out of time and this would be their last training session before the mission.

“Lance, I have to show you something.” Keith says seriously.

“Okay…..?” Lance asks, not hiding the caution in his voice.

“Don’t freak out, alright?”

“Uhm….okay?” Lance didn’t sound sure but Keith would take it.

Keith slowly undid the hooks on the front of his cloak and then lowered the dark hood before removing the garment altogether. He pulled his uniform collar down as well, so the purple Galran mark was fully on display.

Lance just stared at him for a moment and then smiled wickedly. “Ha! I knew that was a mullet under that cloak!”

“What the hell is wrong with you? Is that actually what you have to say about me being part Galra? I thought you’d hate me or run off, not just laugh at my hair?”

“You thought I'd hate you for being part Galran?” Lance’s tone was that of surprise.

“Well ya. You were their slave, Lance. It couldn't have been easy.” Keith felt a little dumb having to explain why the other boy should hate him.

“That doesn't mean that I automatically hate anyone with Galra blood. Im not that small minded.” Lance seemed like he was actually offended at the idea. 

“I'm not saying you are. I just didn't know how you'd react, I definitely wasn’t expecting this.”

“Listen Keith. I've met a lot of Galra and not all of them are terrible. Besides you’re only half Galra. Basically you get a sweet tattoo and none of the other weird features. Like who wants purple skin?” Lance smirked a little, trying to lighten the mood.

“So….you actually don’t care?”

“No, dummy. Is your mullet affecting your brain now?"

Keith rolled his eyes but couldn’t quite wipe off the grin spreading across his face. He could deal with the mullet comments if it meant Lance didn’t hate him.

………..

 

Lance sat in his rocky bed. He was exhausted but he didn't want to sleep yet. Pidge was due back soon and he wanted to talk with them a bit before he slept.  He tapped his foot against the wall as he sharpened one of his knives. His mind wandering back to a certain master assassin.

He looked up as someone entered through the curtained opening, expecting Pidge. 

It wasn't Pidge. It was a short man who Lance had never seen before. He walked directly to him and stopped in front of Lance's bed.

“A letter, sir.” The odd little man held out the small sealed tube for Lance to take.

Lance didn't move, only looked suspiciously at the offered hand. “And who are you?”

“An untouchable.”

Lance raised his eyebrows still not moving. “I’ve never seen you."

“And you know all of us?”

Lance had thought he did but maybe he was wrong. He had made it a point to recognize all the members of the blade. “Apparently not.”

“Your letter.” The short man thrust it back toward him.

“And who is it from?” This guy was pushy and Lance didn’t trust him, not after everything that had happened.

“Perhaps if you read it......"

“Who gave you this letter?” Lance turned the knife he’d been sharpening in his hand, not overtly threatening…yet.

The short man eyed the knife but otherwise didn’t react. “It’s not for you to know, sir.”

Lance narrowed his eyes at the other man. Damnit. If this guy was actually an untouchable then he couldn't force the man to tell him anything. Lance had his doubts about the man being an actual part of the Blades but he couldn’t risk hurting him if he actually was. It was a perfect deception.

Lance reluctantly took the letter and waved off the supposed untouchable. He kept his eyes on the retreating man until he was no longer in sight and only then did Lance look at what he’d been handed. 

The paper was worn and dirtied, like it had been sitting in the open for some time. There was a seal on the small roll that looked to be unopened, no kind of mark indicating who had sealed it though.  Lance broke it open. And found a tight, neat scrawl of black ink:

 

**Red has a habit of killing those who follow him on missions. It would be a shame if you were next. This mission was not meant for you. There are better ways to earn your fortune.**

**A concerned friend.**

 

Interesting. It was at the same time threatening and encouraging. Also very anonymous and gave Lance very little information besides broad assumptions. Did someone not want him to go on this mission? For what reason? He decided he didn’t care. He would not take advice from an anonymous letter writer. He had no idea if this was real or a prank and what the writer’s interest in all of this even was.

Lance crumpled up the letter and shoved it in his pocket just as Pidge finally walked in through the curtain.

He didn’t mention the letter as they talked. It wasn’t a big deal.

…….

 

Lance kept to himself, trying very hard not to talk to anyone, but listen to everyone. Lance had heard the whispers around the table that morning. He couldn’t get it out of his head. Red had gotten his partner killed in order to save his own skin. Gotten him killed and left his body where it lay. Lance knew their work was dangerous and things happened on missions but from what he’d heard this wasn’t the first time it had happened. It was beginning to make sense why there was a select few willing to work with the guild’s most skilled assassin.

Lance’s mind wandered back to the letter he had received the night before. It was suspicious that he had gotten that letter and then suddenly he was hearing rumoured whispers that seemingly proved the letter correct. Could that really be a coincidence? Lance felt the crumpled paper still in his pocket as he thought.

Should Lance be afraid of Keith? No, he didn’t think so. He had berated himself for trusting the other assassin so easily and right from day one but there was just something about the man that made him comfortable. He didn’t want to be afraid of him. Red though, Lance had heard stories and he knew if he was ever on the receiving end of one of his contracts that he would be dead in an instant. He couldn’t quite care, though. Keith was Red and Red was Keith. He would trust them both.

………..

 

Lance tried his hardest to let the letter be forgotten but he didn’t think he was succeeding very well. He felt as though his mind was constantly wandering as he went through the motions of preparing for the mission.

They were back at Voltron to get supplies before they were actually out on their journey. Lance wanted to trust Red but should he? He felt the uneasy turn of his stomach at the thought of traveling alone with the other assassin. Was it the letter or was he nervous about something else?

Lance mindlessly loaded supplies into one of the bags they would be taking. Coran was at his side helping and Keith was further down gathering things from the supply room.

Coran suddenly stopped packing and looked up at Lance and spoke in an urgent, quest whisper. “Listen here my boy. I know Red is a trusted Blade but I'm not sure what happens on his missions. It would seem he has a knack for getting his partners killed. Watch yourself, alright? I'd hate for you not to come back, son.”

“Thanks, Coran. I......I think I can trust him but I'll keep an eye out just incase.”

“I wasn't going to mention it but I knew his last partner. I.....well she trusted him too. And she got a knife in the back because of it. Quite literally I'm afraid. And Red’s own knife too.”

“Wait, what? He actually killed his partner himself?”  Lance had thought that they had just been unlucky or too green, maybe. He'd never considered the reason Keith's partners ended up dead might be because he actually killed them himself.

“I'm afraid so, my boy.” Coran shook his head sadly and glanced wearily over at the other assassin who was carefully packing a few extra things from Coran’s shop for their journey.

“Why would he do that?” Lance hissed out, leaning forward more.

“There’s no reason that anyone knows my boy. Some just say Red’s a loose cannon. I just don’t want you to be caught unaware.” Lance nodded as he processed the information. That couldn’t be real, right? There had to be some reason.

“Just....watch your back.”

“I will Coran. Thanks.”

Red came back into the room and they continued packing their supplies. Lance eyed the other assassin as he thought about what Coran had said. Would this be Lance's first and last mission for the Blade? Was he actually walking to his death beside the man who would deliver it? The thought bothered him but not enough to abandon his mission. Lance had made a promise to Shiro when he joined and he would fulfill it, even if it cost him his life.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I haven't been updating on time lately. My bad!
> 
> Just had a busy summer and lots of family stuff going on. I will try and post weekly again from here on out.

Keith couldn’t help but eye Lance’s back as he walked up the trail in front of him. Lance had been acting strangely ever since Keith’s revelation the other day. He had said that his being part Galra wasn’t a big deal but had he actually meant it?

He could tell the other boy was trying to act normally but there was just a forced quality to it that hadn’t been there before. What else could it be? Was Lance just waiting until after the mission to tell Keith that he couldn’t stand the sight of him anymore? That idea hurt way more than it should. When had Keith started caring so much about their friendship?

Lance stopped walking and stooped down to pull some kind of weed from the tough, dry ground. He had been doing that a lot. 

“Why are you pulling those?”

Lance stood and looked over at him, holding up the fresh plucked thistle. “What? These?”  
“Yes, those and all the other random things you’ve been collecting?”

“They’re ingredients.” Lance said simply again not offering more than the basic anser.

“For poisons?” Keith pried, he’d seen Lance dabble more than once. If the other assassin wouldn’t jabber on like he usually did then it couldn’t hurt for Keith to try and get him to open up a little.

Lance sighed, like he really didn’t want to talk about it. Or maybe he just didn’t want to talk to Keith about it. “Poisons, yes, among other things.”

“Why do you like them?” As much as he wanted to get Lance talking again, Keith really didn’t understand it. Poisons made him shudder.

Lance kept walking, not looking at Keith as he explained. “Well I guess I've always liked plants and what you can do with them. My mom was a healer so it kind of makes sense. Poison is just another part of working with plants. Maybe a bit more sadistic than healing though, I wonder if she would approve.”

Keith felt a chill run up his spine. “You mom.....was a healer...?"

“Uh ya.”

Keith swallowed hard and tried to focus on the conversation. His mind was already reanalyzing the dream he had. There seemed to be some truth to it after all.

Lance obviously recognized the change. “Dude what does that mater, do you have something against healers?”

“No….not at all. I was just surprised I guess.”

Lance hummed in acceptance but didn’t make any other response, just continued walking in front of Keith, focusing on the now slightly uneven and sloping ground. 

“So....did you ever help your mom? With the healing stuff?” Keith asked casually, he really wanted to know more about what he had seen.

"Ya pretty well every day. Honestly I think I was supposed to replace her one day. She trained me for it.” Lance's expression darkened. "It would have been a good life as a far as slaves usually get. But I......well things don't always work out the way we think they will.”

Keith didn't push it. He wanted to but he didn't. Lance obviously didn't want to talk about it and Keith didn't know how to ask.

"Even if it didn't work out the way you thought at least you have your freedom. Healing would be good but you would have still been a slave.” 

Lance nodded, again not responding verbally

"And it probably helped you join the blades. You know what makes the body tick, right?” Never would have met me...Keith thought to himself. 

Lance laughed dryly. “A lot of good it did me too. Now I'm pretty sure everyone there wants me dead.”

“Not everyone.” Keith said quietly.

Lance looked back at him sharply, his eyes curious and searching. Keith kept his face neutral, pretending he hadn't said anything as he tried to keep the blush from running up his neck. 

Keith barely caught the small smile on Lance's face as he dropped his gaze to the ground in front of them. His featured seemed lighter somehow and Keith couldn't help the twitch of his own lips.

“Race ya to the top.” Lance shouted back at him as he started jogging up the hill they were just starting to climb. 

Of course the little shit didn't give Keith a fair start but it didn't matter. He'd catch him up.

Keith won but Lance was faster, he just lacked the same endurance Keith had. They were both panting with the exertion and smiling like idiots.

“This is it, isn’t it? I have climbed this hill and now I will die upon it.” Lance raised his hand to his forehead and let out a dramatic sigh for good measure.

Keith chuckled. “You can die later, right now we have a mission to finish.”

………

They had to get the little globe out of there. It was the whole point of the mission and they were so damn close. The little globe was full of Galran intel and they’d managed to snatch it from the highly guarded fortress they were now stuck in.

There were Galra everywhere and there were only two of them. Lance knew they had very few options but the problem was he couldn’t think of one he liked. Lance’s mind was on their escape as he ran, he was so focussed on strategizing he didn’t see the trap on the floor until he triggered it. 

His feet were locked in some kind of trap that made it impossible to move. He had seen the Galra use similar traps in all of their bases. Dammit he was such an idiot. There had to be a release somewhere but he knew it would be placed far out of his reach. 

He swore under his breath and looked up to see Keith, no Red, staring at him, eyes dark and calculating. Lance couldn’t tell what he was thinking but there didn’t appear to be any emotion there, no disappointment just a void, cool grey. This did not seem like the Keith he had been getting to know. Lance looked at the sentries coming toward them and back to Red and his heart almost stopped. 

Red had one of his blades out and it was aimed directly at Lance. 

Were the rumours really true about him? Was Lance going to be his next victim? He should have taken Coran’s advice more seriously but then Keith had been so nice on their journey here and Lance had let his guard down again.

Lance closed his eyes as the assassin in front of him moved to throw his blade, if that strike didn’t finish him off the quickly approaching Galra would. Lance was a deadman.

Then he heard the thunk of a blade and his feet were suddenly free. He looked over to see Red’s knife had sprung the release. He breathed a sigh of relief. That blade was never meant to hurt him. Keith had saved him. He grabbed the knife and darted back to his partner.

Keith took his blade back as Lance offered it. “Thanks for that, you….you really saved my neck.”

Keith gave him a sideways glance as they continued to run. “You looked scared back there…you know my aim is probably better than yours, right?” Keith’s voice was light and almost teasing but Lance could hear the very sincere question imbedded in the words.

Lance followed Keith around a particularly confusing set of forked hallways before answering. His voice wasn’t as steady as he liked, all this running and fighting was starting to wear him down.

“I…..I heard about your previous missions and…. Well when you pulled out that knife I couldn’t help but think….” Lance felt guilt bubble up in his gut and he couldn’t finish.

“You thought I was going to kill you.” Keith said, his voice flat and emotionless.

Lance nodded “Im so so so sorry, I know you wouldn’t I just…..I doubted myself.”

“Is that why you’ve been so weird this whole mission?” Keith asked, like he was actually relieved by the admission. 

“Ya i guess, I just couldn’t get it all out of my head.”

“You idiot.” Keith said but his words were almost fond, not angry like they should be. “My partner was a Galran spy who tried her damndest to get me captured or killed. So I did what I had to.”

“Oh…” Lance said, surprised that thought hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“Ya..oh.” Keith said, extending his arm out to stop Lance from moving as he checked the next set of halls. Empty.

“Why aren’t you mad?” Lance asked, his voice small and quiet as they continued to run. They had to be getting close to the exit now. Lance felt his pocket to make sure that the little sphere was still there. It was.

“Im an assassin, Lance, I do kill people.” Keith said simply. “And I thought…..” Keith trailed off, hesitating.

Before Lance could urge Keith to continue his focus was brutally shifted back to the mission. There were a handful of extremely armed Galrans in front of them, blocking the exit. Damn they were so close. Lance could see the doorway to freedom.

Lance pulled out his dagger, it would be a close quarters fight until they reached the outside. “Race you to the door.” He yelled in Keiths direction and ran to meet his first opponent.

——————-

Keith thought he might be losing it. Why the hell was he so happy that Lance thought he was going to kill him? Didn’t that spell out a huge lack of trust in their relationship? Not that he could really blame anyone for not fully trusting an assassin of Red’s calibre. 

“Why aren’t you mad?” Lance sounded so guilty when he asked that, he obviously felt bad about it. Again Keith wondered why he wasn’t mad, he probably should be right?

“Im an assassin, Lance, I do kill people.” He knew that was true, but he didn’t want to elaborate that Lance was probably one of the only people he wouldn’t kill at this point. He was far too interesting as a living person, and Keith wanted to see more.

Keith had spent their journey thinking he had made Lance uncomfortable, that maybe the other boy didn’t want to get to know Keith. Maybe Lance really did hate anyone with Galran heritage. It had been hell. Keith realized then that he was so giddy by the silly misunderstanding because it meant he hadn’t fucked up in some way. Their partnership was still intact.  
“I thought…..” what? That you hated me? That I made you uncomfortable? That you didn’t want to come on this damn mission with me? Keith didn’t know how he had meant to finish that sentence so he let it hang there.

Thankfully before Lance could say anything they were faced with a challenging group of Galra. Perfect. Keith could use one last fight before they were away from this stupid base and soldiers and traps. He needed to blow off some steam before he had to travel home with the idiotic boy by his side.

“Race you to the door.” Lance yelled and Keith couldn’t help but smirk at his companion.

Keith jumped into the fight, using his sword and dagger in tandem as he fought the heavily armed Galra. Why did they have to be so large? More to hit, but more bulk to try and pass. 

Keith looked at the door then and his heart sank, a heavy iron door was lowering over the opening. These Galra were trying to stall them so they would have no escape. Keith swore and yelled at Lance.

“The door!”

Lance was farther away than Keith and both of them were still fighting. They quickly dispatched their respective opponents and dodged the other Galra trying to stall them.

They ran for the door, watching it slowly close with each passing second.

Keith slid on his knees barely clearing the opening under the door. He was out of Lance's way quickly and turned to wait for the other boy, he should have had enough time to slide through after Keith.

But he didn’t.

Keith turned to see Lance get grabbed from behind by a hulking Galra just as he was about to slide to freedom.

“No!” Keith was about to slide back under the door, he barely had enough time to clear it a second time.

“No! Don't be an idiot!” Lance yelled as he struggled in his captor's arms. He looked Keith in the eyes and then knocked his head back into his captors face, giving himself seconds of freedom.

“Take it and go!” Lance pulled out the little orb looking thing and tossed it in Keith's direction just as the Galra regained his bearings and lifted Lance up by the collar of his uniform, Lance squeaked in surprise.

Keith’s stomach dropped as the little orb rolled under the door and into his waiting hands. The heavy door sliding into the grooved floor with a resounding thud. He couldn’t see Lance anymore. He couldn't hear him, he couldn’t get to him. Keith slammed his fist against the iron door. "No!"

Dammit! Why did they have to get Lance?

“Ill come back for you.” Keith said to the closed door, before he turned and ran from the base, forcing himself not to look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How bout that cliffhanger huh?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for all your support in this fic. I love reading your comments and seeing the hits and kudos. Huge shout out to those of you commenting on this fic repeatedly. You know who you are and I promise you guys are soooo appreciated.
> 
>  
> 
> Trigger warnings for this chapter and mostly blood and torture and injury. Keep yourselves safe!

Lance would have been lying if he said he didn’t lose some of his will to fight when Keith was suddenly gone. The solid door was probably the only way in or out of this place and it was sealed tightly, leaving Lance alone with the Galra. At least Keith had gotten out and he could finish their mission. That was what Lance had joined the Blade to do, complete missions and protect people from all the cruelty in the current mess of a world. He had done his job.

But it wasn’t over yet. He couldn’t let it be over. He renewed his struggles against the hulking Galra still holding him back. He had nowhere to go and no one here to fight for besides himself. But that was enough. Lance wasn’t one to give up. He couldn’t let himself be captured again.

Several more Galra found their way back to the entry way Lance was still fighting in. One of the tall, thin Galra soldiers walked over in a way that set him apart from the others. He had an air of command. When he was right in front of Lance the thin one promptly grabbed Lance’s face in a tight, bruising grip.

“Well now. This one doesn’t seem to be Galra at all.”

“He got away.” Replied the brute still tightly holding Lance in place. Lance realized suddenly that they had to be talking about Keith. 

The tall, thin Galra that Lance had decided to dub Stretch, swore under his breath, narrowing his eyes at the Galra still behind Lance.

“And where is the orb?” Stretch asked, shortly. He probably already knew the answer.

“Uhm…..its….also gone.” Stammered Lance’s captor. 

“Incompetent fools!” Stretch hissed. “The deserter got away with the orb and we are stuck with, what? This scrawny boy?” 

Lance felt the clawed grip on his face tightening painfully. He would have frowned at being called scrawny and a boy, but his face was otherwise contorted by the hand. He also didn’t like the way they spoke about Keith. They had obviously had something planned for him and not Lance. Once again he was decidedly thankful that the other assassin had managed to escape.

Stretch changed the grip on Lance’s face, forcing him to look right up into the Galra’s ugly face. Those yellow eyes regarded him with intense curiosity. It made Lance’s stomach flutter nervously. This had to be it, the moment everything went to shit.

Surprisingly, Stretch only stared before he let Lance’s face go and turned to walk away.

“I think you know what to do with our guest here, though I doubt anyone will be back for this pathetic….assassin?” Stretch turned back to the remaining Galra with a vindictive grin on his face. “Oh….and if you fail me again you will share his fate.”

The Galra holding Lance back let out a little snarl but didn’t reply as Stretch left the room, a few of the other soldiers tailing behind him.

Could this be real? They didn’t seem to have any idea who he was. They seemed to know Keith but they hadn’t recognized Lance at all. Maybe he had changed enough in the last year that he seemed like a nobody. 

It was probably a good thing that he and Keith had killed so many of the Galra earlier. Could he really be so lucky that none of the ones left here had recognized him? He could almost laugh with relief. If they didn’t know who he was or what he was worth he had a way better chance at getting out of here, if he didn’t die first.

All he had to do was keep his brand and his more famous scars hidden. He couldn’t risk anything triggering his captors memories. If they knew who he was….. well he would rather end up dead than be forced back into Lotor’s hands. Lotor would make certain he paid dearly and eternally for what he’d done.

Lance found himself hauled back through the twisting, forking halls of the base by the unmoving beast of a Galra who had caught and held him. He decided that guy with the beefy arms should have a name too. Boulder seemed to fit. They had a lot in common after all. 

Lance recognized the great hall, he and Keith had passed on their way into the base. He barely had time to register where they were before the hand at his neck tightened and he was spun around and slammed into a hard rock pillar. 

Lance wheezed and coughed as best as he could with the hand that gripped at his neck. Damn how was Boulder holding him up by one hand? Lance would have been more impressed if that hand didn’t tighten, constricting around his airway. His feet were no longer on the ground. His eyes widened in panic as he longed for air, trying hard to keep the panic from surfacing. 

He wasn’t a slave anymore. He was a Blade and Blades didn’t give up, didn’t panic. No they fought, they killed and they won.

Lance bent his knees and kicked hard off of the pillar behind him. He managed to smack his head into the rock surface behind him but he also surprised Boulder enough to get out of his grip. Lance’s feet hit the ground with a small thud. He sucked in a quick breath before he bolted on shaking legs.

He didn’t get far.

Something heavy hit him in the back of the head before he had even taken a few steps. He blinked in surprise as the world tilted. He saw the ground rise up to meet him before he saw no more.

………

 

Keith had never pushed himself so hard. He had desperately hoped to find a horse on his way back. He didnt. He ran nearly the entire way back to the Blade’s base, he was exhausted, already passed his own limits. He couldn’t have cared less.

Shiro would have reprimanded him for being far less careful about keeping their location hidden than he usually was. He needed to hurry and stealth was just not high up on his list of priorities at that moment. Shiro would just have to understand.

When he finally made it back to the base, Keith didn’t waste any time heading directly to Shiro’s office. He wanted nothing more than to storm into the underground hideout and walk directly there but he couldn’t. He was still Red and he was still on a mission. No one could know he was back here yet. He shouldn’t be back and he shouldn’t be alone. If anyone saw him gossip would spread like wildfire.

Keith had to slow down, he couldn’t abandon stealth altogether. Keith snuck through the rocky crags, making his way to the entrance he knew was hidden nearby. The one especially kept open for the master assassins. They often had a need to move about unseen. Much like Keith did now. 

Keith was close, he put his fingers to his mouth and blew out a few melodic notes. A bird call with specific notes that keyed to this entrance only. 

He didn’t wait for a response but snuck into the hidden entrance, the guard stationed there had heard him. He wasn’t attacked and wasn’t stopped. Red had never taken kindly to being stopped and he must have looked a sight because the entrance’s guard gave him a much wider berth than usual, watching him warily.

Red wheeled on the guard, pinning him in the narrow passageway with his signature blade pressed to the skin at the corner of the man’s quivering mouth. 

“A word to anyone besides the Grand Master and I will cut your tongue out” he growled. “Nod if you understand me?” 

The other Blade gave a short nod. His wide eyes, nearly crossing at trying to keep the blade in view.

Keith let the man go and disappeared into the shadows without another word.

 

……..

 

Lance woke up slowly. The first thing he noticed was the pain in his wrists and the recognizable stinging of cold metal digging painfully into his flesh. He knew that feeling. Manacles. He kept his eyes closed taking stock of what he could before the Glare noticed he was awake.

His feet were barely on the ground, his toes brushing the ground as he swayed slightly. He could hear the soft clinking of chains above him. So he was chained and suspended in the air. Perfect.

His head throbbed and he would definitely be feeling that knock out for a while. Stupid Boulder and his stupid rock solid body. He hit like a…well like a boulder.

“Ahhh is our little Blade waking up?”

His time was up apparently. Lance groaned and slowly looked up at his arms. There was blood there but his uniform was still intact, his long sleeves were still there, doing nothing to protect his wrists, but thankfully hiding the mark that would certainly identify him.

“Unfortunately.” Lance replied dryly, his voice rasping slightly.

“For you maybe. For me not so much, I’m done waiting to have some fun with you.” Boulder replied, obvious excitement seeping into his tone.

“Not very patient are you?” Lance spat out, sounding disappointed, scolding almost.

Lance’s head snapped into the side of his own arm as he was backhanded hard across the face. His wrists protested as his body was sent swinging by the impact. He spat blood down onto the floor, trying to push down the nausea that swept over him at the swaying motion.

“Not patient and not very hospitable either. Tsk tsk.” Lance replied, ignoring the hard smack he had just received.

He was hit again, this time sending his body swinging in the other direction. He grit his teeth as the bones in his wrists and hands grated against the metal now digging solidly into his skin.  
He felt blood drip down his arms and down his face, he tasted the iron on his tongue. It did not bring back good memories.

“Not even a squeak, hey boy? Maybe you’re stronger than you look.” Boulder sounded both impressed and annoyed by that.

Or maybe Lance had just experienced far worse than this. Lance didn’t think he was terribly strong, but this was far from his first time at someone else's mercy. He hated this but he knew it, knew how to deal with it. He knew pain. He knew torture and this was hardly it.

“Or maybe you’re just weaker than you look, hey big guy?” Lance raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Lance subconsciously tensed up for another hit. One that never came.

Instead Boulder let out a short grunt of a laugh, it wasn’t a nice sound. 

“You think you’re funny.” It was a statement, not a question. Boulder’s tone sent warning shivers down Lance’s spine. He had a feeling he may have pushed it too far, crossing some line he hadn’t known was there.

Boulder turned away from Lance. Walking out of his line of sight. Lance could hear him though. He could hear him rummaging around before he heard the grating of metal. He heard the clinking of chains before he was pulled sharply upward by the chains at his wrists, his feet no longer close to the ground. He groaned at the pressure on his poor wrists and arms.

Boulder walked back into Lance’s view carrying some kind of carving blade with a curved and pointed tip. It was coated in something purple that glistened along the knife’s edges. It looked thick and sticky, not dripping to the floor as the hulking Galra moved closer. 

“Thanks for that, now I’m taller than you.” Lance smirked at Boulder, trying not to let his fear show. It was far more painful without his feet to relieve some of the strain on his arms. It was harder to breathe this way with his arms pulled high above his head, but at least his arms were out of reach of the Galra’s knife. The only silver lining to whatever this was being that his brand and his secret should be safe.

Boulder ignored the comment, looking Lance up and down in a hungry way.

“Im sure you don’t know what this is.” Boulder held the knife up close to Lance’s face, making the purple substance all the more visible. “Its a poison. Not a very nice one either. It will kill you….slowly…..and painfully…” Boulder smiled slowly as he said it, waving the knife teasingly in front of Lance again.

Lance followed the blade with his eyes, keeping his expression neutral. He had acquired some immunity to some of the more common poisons but he doubted very much that this would be one of them. Lance swallowed thickly around the lump that had appeared in his throat. He tried to remind himself that death wasn’t the worst thing that could have happened. It helped a little.

“I could have made you swallow it, you know.” Boulder said thoughtfully, looking intently at the knife as he spoke. “But then I thought this would be far more fun. Especially after you decided to lip off.”

“You think you could make me swallow? I only do that for guys with manners.” Lance spat out. Not his best comeback but he’d take it. 

Boulder’s eyes grew wide and then he growled as he finally got what Lance was insinuating. It would have been more comical if Boulder didn’t react by resting the knife on Lance’s collar bone. Lance shivered at the cold metal resting on his skin. 

“I think it’s time you shut your mouth….for good.” Boulder growled between his sharp, clenched teeth.

The knife tip dug in deep, Lance hissed at the burning sensation that accompanied the sting of the blade. The poison.

Boulder smiled as he used the hooked tip of the blade to push back out the top of Lances skin, ripping more than cutting. Lance groaned at that one.

“Ahh so you can make pretty noises. Thats much better than the sound of you talking.”

Lance looked down at the knife that Boulder slowly moved downward, leaving a trail of his own blood along his skin. The blade didn’t cut but it was cold as it slid across Lance’s skin slowly. The waiting was the worst part. 

Boulder stopped the knife when he had it placed against the delicate skin at Lance’s stomach, the purple goo substance was still coated along the blade, along with the dark red of his blood at the tip. 

Lance watched with some sense of sick professional appreciation and curiosity as the Galra used the base of the blade to cleave Lance’s uniform at one of its weak spots and then easily split his skin underneath. He watched the line of red form on his skin and he felt the subsequent burn of the poison. He had always found it oddly fascinating. How easy people were to cut, how easily his own body parted for the knife. 

He watched, biting his own tongue and clenching his jaw to keep quiet, as the Galra continued to cut him. He always watched. It gave him something to think about. It gave him something to learn for later. He would use these techniques one day, he would use them to kill Boulder. 

Eventually Lance couldn’t focus anymore, the Galra, the knife and his blood were all blurring together. He wasn’t sure if this was from the poison or the blood loss but he didn’t think he’d be conscious much longer. 

Boulder was talking to him, he could hear the low voice but couldn’t understand what the Galra was growling at him. He doubted it was worth hearing anyway.

Lance registered his feet touching the ground again, though not fully, it was still a relief. He could breath easier. His arms and wrists seized with the change but it wasn’t all bad. He sighed, feeling his head rest in the junction between his own arm and shoulder as he lost consciousness again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh another cliff hanger, shoot. My bad! 
> 
> Promise the next chapter is a good one and some of this will get resolved.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are amazing! Almost 100 Kudos and over 1000 hits! Im thinking you deserve a reward so I will post another fic with the next chapter. Im debating between a one shot or the start of my next multichapter. We will see!
> 
> Some more semi-graphic blood and killing in this chapter (its an assassin fic, no one should be surprised at this point). 
> 
> As always..Enjoy!

Keith didn’t even knock on the door as he barged into his leader’s office, completely ignoring the indignant responses of the guards he had completely disregarded. He didn’t wait for a response from Shiro either, he simply dropped the faintly pulsing orb on the solid rock desk and promptly turns on his heel. He pushed his way past the guards who had followed him in and raced back through the passages. He took a freshly packed horse from the guild’s stables, completely uncaring who it had been packed for, and raced out of the rocky valley hiding the Blades. 

He and Lance had done the journey on foot, after all. Choosing stealth over speed. It had taken Keith far too long to get back to the base on foot. The horse was a definite help but he wanted nothing more than to go faster, pushing the beast and himself to the absolute limit. 

Keith’s mind raced as he rode and he couldn’t seem to get a handle on his panicked, worried thoughts. He knew what the Galra were capable of and he was taking too long. How could he have left Lance there? Especially when he knew Lance’s history. Keith couldn’t fathom finding his lively, pretty boy companion dead. Keith spurred the horse on again, he needed to go faster. Lance had been a captive far too long already.

What felt like days later, he was finally back at the damned Galra base. Keith left the horse a ways behind, well out of sight of the fortress looming ahead of him. It was quiet, far too quiet. Keith snuck up toward the entrance, there was only one after all, and was unprepared to be greeted by an open and unblocked archway. Something was definitely not right, Keith felt his adrenaline increase and he focused on sharpening his vision and hearing. So far there were no signs of…anything.

Keith silently entered the fortress for the second time, the halls were desolate. He continued on, greeted at each turn by empty halls and open doors. He hoped against hope that he wasn’t too late. If the Galra had taken Lance and left the base Keith would likely never find him.  
Keiths breath caught when he finally got the main hall. There, in the middle of the large, open room was Lance. His wrists held up by thick chains descending from the ceiling. He hung limply from the chains, most of his weight supported by the delicate bones in his wrists, his feet barely brushing the floor.

He looked too still. Too quiet. Too dead. 

Keith kept his panic forcibly in check as he ran up to Lance, barely daring to hope.

Keith swore at the pool of blood under the other assassin, slowly growing as the dark liquid dripped down the boy’s sliced up body. Keith could hardly tell where the cuts were, the blood was smeared and dripping so much, turning Lances whole torso into a bloody mess. Keith pulled his own blade out and used it to forcibly bend some of the links of the chain holding Lance up and helped lower the boy to the cold stone floor.

Keith reached a hand up to feel for a pulse but quickly pulled it away when a ragged gasp came from the limp body in his lap. Lance looked at him without recognition and then his eyes rolled up into the back of his head, his body tensing before relaxing fully.

Keith smeared some of the blood of Lance’s neck, quickly checking his pulse point. Lance was alive but his heart was beating quickly and erratically. His breathes came out in quick bursts, shallow and fast.

Keith didn’t waste any more time checking on his partner’s injuries. They might not be alone here. He grabbed the still bleeding boy under his back and legs, picking him up and running out of that god forsaken Galra base. Keith silently thanked his part-Galra genes for his increased strength. He would have had a much harder time getting the injured boy out of there and Lance needed a real healer, and he needed one fast.

…………

 

Keith had made it back to the horse quicker than he’d thought, the sun was setting. He was running out of time. Keith managed to hoist Lance up into the front of the saddle. He lowered the injured boy so he had an arm on each side of the steed’s neck and his face rested on the horses’ mane. Keith held him steady as best as he could as he readied himself to jump up behind him.

“You know……I didn’t expect the great assassin to come back for such a weakling.”

Keith froze, one foot in the stirrup and his hands still supporting Lance. The voice was definitely the deep tone of a Galra. And it was coming from behind him, damn, he had no way to know if they had a weapon on him. He had been far too careless. He didn’t reply but slowly moved his hand down Lance’s leg so he could reach behind it to one of the knives he kept hidden in the saddle.

“You wasted your effort, he won’t make it.” The voice was smug, so sure.

“You don’t know a damned thing.” Keith spat into the saddle as his fingers brushed the hilt of the knife he sought.

“Oh?…… It doesn’t matter either way. You will be coming back with me, deserter. And the boy will die.”

Keith spun toward the voice, ducking into a crouch as he did so and releasing his knife in the direction of the Galra.

He heard the clink of metal and knew he’d missed his target but he didn’t dwell on it. He was already moving toward his opponent. He pulled another blade from the sheath in his boot. 

Blade met blade as the two luged for each other in the fading light. It would be dark soon and the Galra would be dead. There was no other choice. Keith refused to go back and he refused to let Lance die for his mistakes.

Keith lunged and parried quickly and efficiently. He didn’t want a drawn out battle. This Galra was good though, he was quick and strong and fought dirty. 

Keith saw his opportunity for an opening when he glanced past the Galra to where Lance was. The boy was sliding precariously to one side. He hated that he had to leave Lance where he was but he needed this.

Keith pushed back toward the Galra and switched his hold. He heard Lance fall but kept his eyes on the Galra when the harsh thud permeated the otherwise still area. There. The Galra was distracted for a split second and Keith moved, sliding his blade between the Galra’s ribs and right into his now stuttering heart.

Keith didn’t watch his opponent drop when he pulled his blade free. He just turned and flung the blood off his blade and across the ground before putting it back in its sheath. He would clean it later. Right now he had to get to Lance.

……….

 

Lance had remained unconscious even after he’d fallen off the horse. Keith somehow managed to get them both mounted. He fully supported the other boy as they rode. The sun had completely set, it was dark and hard to navigate the terrain. Their progress was frustratingly slow and Keith was barely staying awake.

Keith was exhausted and Lance wasn’t in great shape. He was still breathing shallowly, he was still bleeding. Keith could feel the hot sticky liquid where he held the other boy to him. They needed to stop, but Keith was loath to do so. He just wanted Lance to get to the healers.

He found a place they were fairly secluded and slowed the horse. They would be able to go faster with more light. They were far enough away from the Galra base that they should be safe. Lance needed some help and the nights were short right now. They would make better progress when the sun began to rise in a couple hours.

With considerable effort Keith managed to get himself and then Lance off the horse. He laid the unconscious boy on the grass and tended to the horse. The better off their mount was the quicker they would be getting back when they decided to ride again.

They couldn’t risk a fire, so Keith used the supplies he had brought on the horse. There was a strong smelling antiseptic and some simple wound supplies. It wasn’t much but it would have to do. 

Keith looked over the boy he had saved. He looked deathly pale in the moonlight. His uniform was mostly intact. Keith was surprised to find that the long sleeves Lance wore were still covering his slender arms. The Galra must not have checked for the slave brand, that was probably a small mercy. Keith didn’t know how Lance had gotten his freedom but he doubted his master had simply granted it. 

Keith would have to remove Lance’s shirt but he decided to leave the sleeve covering the brand. Keith cut the remaining tatters of the Blade uniform shirt and pulled it away from Lance’s chest carefully, it was sticking with half dried blood in various places. Thankfully Keiths eyesight was better than most humans and he could make out the various wounds well enough to clean them some and cover them.

There were several long cuts and ripped skin in places. Whoever had done this had not used a sharp blade. Keith held back a snarl at the cruelty. Lance whimpered occasionally but didn’t seem to notice the antiseptic. He wasn’t really reacting to anything Keith was doing.

Lance’s wrists were probably the deepest injuries. Keith had to physically pull the edges of the manacles out of Lance’s flesh. He didn’t have the tools to take them off fully but he was able to move them enough to see the damage. There were a lot of raw looking parts along the deep gashes at the bottoms of his wrist. Keith was fairly sure he could see the telltale white of bone in a couple of places. Lance was lucky that an artery hadn’t been severed. 

Keith carefully wrapped the torn wrists, adding extra padding to keep the manacles from causing any further damage. He was happy to have the wounds covered. He couldn’t help but thinking back to Lance’s fear in training that day. His panic at having his wrists bound. His already gnarly scars. Lance didn’t deserve it, any of it. But Keith had left him to that fate. Keith had put the mission first like he always did and Lance had paid for it.

He couldn’t do anything more for Lance until they were back at the Blade. He sighed and laid down beside his injured companion. He needed the rest. He held his knife close in his hand and closed his eyes. Staying half awake to listen to their surroundings. He couldn’t let himself sleep fully, not until they were back at the Blade. Not until they were both safe.

………

Keith heard it and woke instantly rushing to sit up at Lance’s side. The injured boy was whimpering and moaning. He jerked in his sleep, entire body twitching. There was a light sheen of sweat on his pinched face. He didn’t seem to be awake though.

Keith spoke into the other boys ear as he grabbed and prodded at any uninjured skin. Lance was slow to respond.

Keith saw the brilliant blue pupils peak out from barely open eyes as Lance groaned again. 

“Lance? Come on, wake up.”

Lance blinked a couple of times, slowly. His eyes moving back and forth, searching.

Keith placed a hand on the other assassins cheek. “Its me Lance. It’s Keith.”

“K…..Keith?” Lance’s rasping voice spoke slowly, unsure. He seemed to be processing the name. 

Keith stomach clenched. “Thats right. I got you. We are headed back to the Blade. Just hang in there.”

Lance nodded slowly, barely keeping his eyes open. He looked like he was about to fall back asleep before his body tensed and he let out startled whine. 

Keith grabbed at him, trying to get the injured boys attention again but Lance just let out a strangled moan. It was painful to even listen to. What had those Galra bastards done?

Lance’s eyes flew open and he grabbed at Keith desperately. 

“Keith?” Lance’s tone was desperate, his breathing quick and shallow.

“Im here Lance. What hurts…please just tell me what to fix?” Keith felt useless. He had already done what he could for Lance’s injuries but the boy was still in so much pain.

“Keith…..Keith tell them…to stop.” Lance begged. “Please! I can’t take this anymore. Please please!”

“Shh…Lance its ok. You’re safe. No one is hurting you anymore.”

“Nooo.” Lance wailed. Tears falling unchecked down his face.

Keith realized with horror that Lance was seeing and feeling things that weren’t there. How could Keith fight the demons in the other boys head? Keith was surprised when his own cheeks were wet. He hadn’t cried since the night his mother died.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy! Another chapter! And this time we start out with a langsty flashback.
> 
>  
> 
> Trigger warnings for some torture, graphic depictions of death and dead bodies. Stay safe!

_Lance was back at the plantation. A slave for Zarkon. He sat shivering in the cold mud and stone that was the castle’s cellar. He was locked in one of the bigger cells, his legs chained to the wall by tight ankle cuffs. He could feel the chill spreading from the metal to his ankles and the rest of his body. He hugged himself tighter, hanging onto the little warmth he was creating._

_He wasn't alone in the cell. Just out of reach was a bigger man, probably twenty years his senior. They didn't talk, neither one willing to risk the harsh beating that would surely follow. They just looked at each other, the older man offering the occasional sympathetic twitch of lips that might have been an attempt at a smile._

_Eventually he closed his eyes, trying to focus on anything but the nearly oppressive silence of the wet, cold room. That's when he noticed the harsh, wet, rattling cough his companion was suffering from. It didn't sound good but there was nothing they could do until their sentence was served._

_Lance slept. He passed the time in silent contemplation, trying to sleep as much as he could, just to get away from the boredom, to forget his predicament, to escape. He didn't know how long he had been in the dark dampness. There was nothing of use to help keep track of time. But based on his cell mate’s worsening cough it had been a while._

_He looked over at the other man, able to make him out fairly well in the dim light that seeped through the cracks around the cell door. The man looked haggard, and exhausted, no longer offering any comforting gestures or half smiles._

_Instead it was Lance's turn, he smiled sympathetically at the sick man, wishing he could do more. Instead he watched as the man slowly but steadily got worse. He needed help, and soon. Lance doubted very much he would make it to the end of his sentence in the dark and damp cell. He needed Lance’s mother, the best healer the Galra had, slave or not._

_Lance couldn't sit there and do nothing. His mother always told him it was the job of a healer to help the sick, no matter the cost. The other man's life was in his hands, small and cold as they were. It was an easy decision to make even with the steep consequences he knew he'd be facing. It wasn't even really a choice in his mind and he paid it no more thought._

_Lance opened his mouth and yelled with his now rasping voice. He choked on his own outcry, sputtering into a coughing fit. He tried again, his voice now more cooperative. He hollered for the guard he knew was outside the cell, yelling anything he could think of to get their attention._

_It didn't work, at least not how he’d hoped._

_Lance had gotten the guards attention alright. They just didn't bother to come for the sick man. Instead the guards came for him._

_He felt the boot first, the cold, hard metal plates in the toes burning into his already cold flesh. Somehow the temperature of the metal hurt worst than the actual kick to the abdomen.  He rolled and coughed, trying to get away from the guards boot._

_It didn't work. The guard grabbed his chains and yanked him back by the ankles. His shackles cutting in deeper. He could feel the warm blood begin to trickle down his toes and feet. Great.  The guard wasn’t satisfied by kicking him around a bit. He must have been having a bad day. And Lance had decided to get his attention._

_The Galra hoisted Lance’s too skinny frame over to the rock wall. His chains clinking musically as they jostled together by his feet. Suddenly his wrists were shackled to the cuffs imbedded in the wall. Not loosely either. They were separated by a bar studded into the stone. It held them firmly. His feet could reach the grounds, barely. But he was so exhausted and starving that he didn't have the energy to stand solely on his own._

_Lance slumped into the wall in front of him a little, resting his cheek on the too cold stone. It took him a minute to realize why that action send a shiver of dread up his spine.  He was facing the wall. Which meant his back was to the guard._

_No...no. no. Not again. He barely managed to survive last time. Lance held back a sob. He should have never called the guards. He should have kept his mouth shut. He thought of the sick man in the cell._

_No. It was better he call them. He would hold out hope that once these asshats were done with him they would at least check on the other man. He wouldn't regret his choice._

_"I needed a way to blow off some steam and lucky for me you provided it. You know theres no noise in here and yet you decided to yell your pretty fucking face off." The guard reached his gloved hand over to Lance's face and turned it uncomfortably away from the wall so Lance could look into the ugly Galran’s twisted face. His swirling, purple neck tattoo almost glowing in the darkness. Lance memorized the pattern. They were all different and he would remember this one and who wore it._

_"Since there is no noise allowed in here, you better not scream. I'll be adding extra lashes if you do."_

_Lance felt the tears form in his eyes and blinked them away. He had no choice but to endure. Get it over with and then they could check on his cellmate. He could do this. Hopefully without noise._

_………._

_He had almost managed to take his punishment silently. Almost._

_He had gotten several extra lashes for whimpers he couldn’t quite contain. His back felt like it was nothing but a burning mess of open and ripped flesh when he was finally released from his restraints._

_It was far from the first time he had been whipped and it would probably not be the last. But it never got easier. Never fully healed. His back would still bother him from his lashing years ago. And now it was torn open again._

_His mother would kill him. She had worked tirelessly to keep him alive then and he doubted she would be happy to do it a second time._

_The guard dropped him on the wet floor, not caring about Lances fresh, open wounds. Infection was a thing, stupid. Though why would the life of a slave matter to an angry Galran, Lance supposed._

_Lance lay on his side, facing his companion. The guard had left without so much as glancing at the other prisoner. Lance blinked the tears out of his eyes. He wanted to apologize for failing._

_Lance stared at the glassy, open eyes that met his. He didn't understand at first, didn't register what those eyes meant through the pain he already felt. He couldn't process more hurt._

_He stared at the others expressionless face, and glazed eyes. He watched as gravity pooled blood in the man’s body, leaving him pale and waxy looking with purple mottled patches spreading up from where the ground touched his now cold body.  Lance stared through his own tears, watching as the consequences of his own inaction burned into his memory._

_He should have done something sooner. He could have saved him, somehow. If only he had been braver, smarter, freer.  He choked on a sob as he thought of the now dead man's little comforting smiles. Lance didn’t deserve them._

………..

 

“No one is to come in or out of this room without my say so. Do you understand?” Keith stared at the guard with cold eyes, watching for any hesitation or deception.

“Yes, Red, sir.”

“You and two others assigned by Kolivan will rotate, no others. You will establish the other two with Kolivan prior to switching guards. There will be no changes.”

“Understood.”

“You will discuss nothing you see here with anyone. I will personally kill you if you break any of these rules.”

“I…understand.” The guard swallowed hard.

Keith nodded. Casting the guard another warning look.

Keith had gotten Lance into the med wing without being spotted. It hadn’t been easy and he would not have his hard work be for nothing. Nobody knew who was in this room or what was happening and it needed to stay that way if Lance had any chance of keeping his life.

Weakness was death here and Lance already had far too many enemies.

……..

 

“So? What is it? Whats wrong with him?” Keith asked Allura, the head healer. He hadn’t always had the best relationship with her and his abrupt tone was only due in part to their past. He just wanted answers.

“Poison.” She said matter of factly, calm like she was simply giving a report on the weather.

“What?”

“He was poisoned.” She said again, realizing Keith needed more than a one word explanation, she continued. “Its why he has yet to fully waken, though his injuries are not all that serious on the surface.”

“But he will be fine with the antidote right?” Keith prodded hopefully.

“He would be…… however, this is not something we can make an antidote for. I don’t know what ingredients the Galra may have incorporated but all our tests come back as inconclusive.” Allura spoke calmly but Keith could hear a note of frustration in her tone.

“What does that mean?” Keith asked impatiently, his anger flaring again. He hated having to pry answers out of people. Unless, of course, he could use his knife to do it.

Allura sighed. “It means we are going to have to let this poison finish running it’s course. It seems as though whatever this is, works by making the host experience the most painful and frightening experiences they have and then amplifying them until the stress causes the heart to eventually stop working due to the strain.”

“So?….What?....You’re going to let it kill him?” Keith spoke through clenched teeth. Wasn’t she a healer? How could she just let one of her charges die?

“Essentially. But I have every expectation that we will be able to restart his heart. He is young and healthy, after all.” Allura shrugged as she spoke and Keith had to forcibly keep his temper in check. She was taking Lance’s life far too lightly for his liking.

Keith spoke between clenched teeth. “So there’s a chance you’ll just be killing him?”

“There is always the risk of death. Even in life’s simplest of things. Of course this plan is not ideal but I don’t think we have any other choice.”

………..

 

“No. No no no don’t no no.” Lance was begging through clenched teeth. Broken sobs and screams punctuating the words. Lance was thrashing and clenching his body at the same time, which seemed to add to whatever pain he was feeling.

Keith hovered over him, not sure what to do to help. Lance’s pain and panic seemed to be increasing as time went on but Keith could hardly move him while he lay there thrashing. He tried speaking calmly to the boy. It didn’t help.

Lance screamed with more intensity, his voice already hoarse and cracking. Keith could practically feel the pain Lance was in and it made him queasy.

Allura had been adamant about not giving him any form of sedative or pain control. They would have to let the poison do its work. Lance would have to suffer through. Keith hated it.

Eventually they had to restrain Lance. His thrashing had gotten worse and he would swing out blindly, hitting anyone in his vicinity. One of the poor healers had gotten a broken nose from an unfortunately well placed fist.

The entire healing team was already assigned to secrecy but Keith made it his mission to ensure they all remembered it. He wouldn’t have anyone putting his partner in further danger. Plus, he needed some way to occupy his time, so he monitored anyone who entered or left the rooms. He felt so useless sitting there watching Lance in pain, waiting for it to kill him. Honestly, he wasn’t dealing with it very well.

Keith refused to leave the med wing. He would never forgive himself for it if he wasn’t there when Lance eventually succumbed to the poison. He couldn’t allow himself to leave in good conscience, he had to be there to help. Lance was his partner and was hurt on their mission.

He slept on a cot at Lance’s side. He kept an eye on everyone, guards and healers. He ate when people brought him food. He watched and waited.

He sat at Lance’s side now, reading a report Shiro had brought him. Their leader had tried to get Keith to step out for a while but he had refused. Whatever it was that Shiro had wanted to discuss could wait. Shiro had seemed hesitant but hadn’t pressed the issue.

Keith looked up from his report as Lance suddenly went quiet. The boy's quick, panicky breathing had stilled and he was no longer making any distressed noises.

Lance looked still, quiet, peaceful.

Keith was on his feet in half a second checking the other boy’s pulse. He knew already that Lance’s heart had stopped. He could see it in the relaxed face, the still chest, the slightly grey skin. He knew but he checked anyway. He knew but his own heart stuttered when he didn’t feel a pulse. He knew but he still yelled out frantically for help as he jumped on the other boys chest, beating his heart for him.

He felt and heard the cracking of bone as he broke through the rib cage. He kept going.

Keith didn’t really register who else rushed to his side to help. They had all made a plan in preparation for this and Keith knew they would do their best to bring Lance back.

He could feel his body shaking with a different kind of adrenaline as he continued doing compressions. He felt almost separate from what was happening. His body acting in a collected manor as his mind silently freaked out. He kept going.

He didn’t know how long they worked. He refused to be switched out for anyone else. He wasn’t tired. He could keep doing chest compressions. He could keep Lance’s heart artificially beating. He was a half Galra, he had the more stamina and strength than the others. This was all he could do and he needed to be doing something.

He heard Allura call out for him to stop. He hesitated until he heard the steady beating on one of the healer’s monitors. He stood there at Lance’s side and watched the waveforms that showed up. He felt exhausted and exhilarated at the same time.

Lance’s heart was beating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heees AAaaaaalliiiiive! Alive!
> 
>  
> 
> As promised, check out the new one shot I wrote called Lets Ride!
> 
> Keep being awesome!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starts out with Shiro's POV from Keith barging into his office.

Shiro knew something was terribly wrong when Keith forced his way into his office without so much as a word. The younger man’s face was a mask of stone, expressionless. 

It didn’t fool Shiro. He could see the tension he was hiding, the exhaustion. 

He wanted nothing more than to convince the assassin to stop and tell him what had happened. He did no such thing. 

Shiro sat there in flabbergasted silence as Keith walked in and practically dropped the little orb on his desk, a faint thump sounding through the otherwise quiet office.

Keith spun on his heel and stormed right back out through the doors without a word or explanation. Keith shouldered his way past the disgruntled guards and continued on his way. He looked to be in a hurry.

Shiro sighed and waved off the guards, letting the rude display slide. Whatever was going on must be important and with Keith’s temperament the guards would only die if Shiro sent them to detain the other Blade.

His guards eyed him knowingly, it wouldn’t be the first or last time he allowed the other man to get away with more than anyone else. They all knew their leader had a bit of a soft spot for the fiery, young master assassin.

Adam walked into the office, closing the doors firmly behind him. He must have seen the little display if his expression was anything to go from.

“What was that about?”

Shiro sighed. “I have no idea.”

Adam hesitated. “Do you….. You don’t think that he and Lance got into a fight, do you?”

Shiro knew where his partner was headed with that line of thinking. Red was known for his short temper and skill at killing other assassins, even his partners. Adam didn’t know all of the surrounding circumstances of those particular kills, though.

“No.” Shiro shook his head. “This is something else. Though, I doubt it’s anything good.”

“I just couldn’t help but notice that Lance wasn’t with him.” Adam chewed his lip, worried. 

Shiro clenched his hands together on the desk. He had noticed the boy’s absence as well. That coupled with Keith’s reappearance and hurried exit couldn’t mean anything good. The mission had been completed but he hoped it hadn’t cost them too dearly.

…………

Pidge had been sent to tell the Grand Master about the situation in the medical wing.

Shiro gathered more from the story than the young healer meant to tell him. He knew both Keith and Lance’s past and was able to have a vague understanding of what had probably occurred at that base.

He had paid a visit to the med wing in secret.

Keith had been a mess. And Lance an even worse one.

He had tried to convince Keith to leave his partner for a while but his heart wasn’t really in it. Yes, there had been new information come to light but it could wait until Lance was either stable or…..well, hopefully stable.

Shiro had gotten a more detailed account of Lance’s injuries from Allura. Honestly, there was not a lot of hope for the boy who had already been through so much.

He was being tortured repeatedly in his own mind and his body was paying the price. It would only be a matter of time before his body succumbed to the stress of it.

Shiro worried.

He worried for Keith mostly. Lance had had a rough life, he had been prepared to die. It was awful and sad for one so young but it would be far worse on those he left behind.

Keith had never really opened up to anyone. Had no problem with watching death, causing death. But Shiro had never seen him deal with the death of someone he actually cared about.

And whether he admitted it or not, Keith cared about Lance. Shiro could see it in the way he watched the other boy, worried about him. He could see it in the way he trained him, helped him be stronger. 

Shiro knew how Keith felt when he asked for Lance to join him on missions, when the assassin had attacked Lance. He saw it now in how Keith refused to leave the injured boys side. How he watched anyone enter and leave the med wing. How he was trying to protect him, even now, as Lance lay there dying.

Shiro watched and waited and worried even as Lance’s heart stopped and started beating again.

…………

Keith had stayed with Lance as the boy slept. Allura had assured him that he was out of the woods now. He might remain unconscious for some time to allow him to heal but he would be alright. Lance would wake up.

Keith finally slept more than a few winks. He stayed at Lance’s side on one of the cots but he actually fell into a deep sleep.

When he woke he was warm and comfortable. He laid there for a few moments, revealing in the deep and even breathing coming from the bed beside him. Lance was no longer in pain, but sleeping peacefully.

Keith sat up, feeling better than he had in while. He looked down to see that someone, probably Shiro, had brought him one of his cloaks and some fresh clothes. He hadn’t left that room in so long he probably smelled horrible.

He really didn’t want to leave but he didn’t want Lance to wake up and see him such a state of disarray either.

Keith sighed and picked up the clothes he had been brought. He felt something stiff folded in the pocket of his cloak.

He pulled out the still sealed letter he had stolen from the tower that night he had gone on his solo mission. He had completely forgotten about it. Had never even read it.

Lance had been attacked right after he had gotten back that night and then they had gone on their own mission. It had completely slipped his mind and Keith hadn’t used his cloak from that night again until now. 

He mentally berated himself for his carelessness. He had no idea what was in the letter and he should have given it to Shiro ages ago. 

He opened it now, deciding that late was better than never.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

……….

Keith had to leave the still sleeping Lance alone in the medical wing. He needed to talk to Shiro. 

Dammit he should have read the letter before they ever went on that stupid mission. All of this might have been prevented.

He walked up to the Master Assassin’s office, mentally kicking himself the entire way. He had been so careful to keep his Galra mark covered. He had used a code name and everything. He had thought he had left his old life behind.

It had been years with no issues, no news. He had naively thought that the Galra had forgotten about their half breed deserter. He should have known better. Should have been more careful.

This blasted group of spies needed to go. 

Somehow he had been recognized and this whole damn mission was always a trap for Keith. Lance had just gotten in the way.

Keith sighed, ignoring the glares from the guards outside Shiro’s office. Apparently they hadn’t forgotten his little mishap the other day.

He waited patiently as one of them grudgingly let him in to see their leader.

“Ah, Keith…..Im surprised to see you here.”

Keith dropped the letter on Shiro’s desk, tapping his foot impatiently as the older man read it. He watched the Grand Master’s face carefully, he didn’t seem at all shocked by the contents of the letter.

“Keith….”

“Don’t. Don’t you ‘Keith’ me! You already knew?” Keith was barely keeping his anger contained.

“I didn’t. Though, I suspected there was more to this.” 

“So, you are telling me that you thought something like this was going on and you never thought to, oh i don’t know, mention it?”

“Keith, there is more to this….” 

“What more, Shiro? What more could there be?” Keith sat himself down across from Shiro, suddenly exhausted again.

“I don’t want to burden you with this, kiddo, but I think you need to know. It could put both of you in far more danger.”

“Tell me.” Keith practically growled.

“I assume you know at least some of Lance’s history at this point?”

Keith nodded.

“I am not entirely sure, but I expect news of his capture to spread through the ranks of the Galra. I doubt very much those Galra you encountered knew who he was, or things would have undoubtedly turned out very differently. However, someone is bound to know him by description.”

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t know how much he told you but I think you should know that Lance wasn’t just any slave.” Shiro held up his hand as Keith was about to interrupt. “You will have to ask him to explain it further, if he wants to. That being said, I think you should know that the Galra have a high price on his head. They would do anything to have him back.”

“I don’t….. What? Are you telling me you sent him right into the heart of a Galra infested base when you knew he had a target on his head?”

“It was his decision. I don’t think he wants to hide forever.”

“That…..that absolute fucking idiot!”

“Are you saying that if you were him you wouldn’t want the chance to get back at your previous masters?”

Keith just narrowed his eyes, clenching his jaw tight. He had seen the scars on Lance’s back, on his entire body really. He had seen the brand and he would bet his life that a large part of Lance’s poison induced dreams came from his time in Galran captivity.

Shiro nodded knowingly, taking his lack of response as an answer.

“I think we should consider ourselves fortunate. You unwittingly foiled their plans to capture you and they were woefully uniformed to let Lance go. You are both back and both alive, along with the intel in that little sphere.”

Keith grudgingly accepted that Shiro was right. Things could have been a lot worse in so many ways. He still needed to have a lengthy discussion with a certain caramel skinned idiot. For now he would just have to wait until the other boy healed.

………

Lance woke up quickly. He was disoriented and his body was sore everywhere. He felt as though his muscles had all been pulled tight, stretched to their limits.

He groaned and looked around the dark room. He felt like he should have known where he was, should have recognized the stone room. He didn’t.

His mind was a mess, a confusing haze of dreams and memories.

Lance got up slowly, eyes searching the room and ears pricked for any noise.

He moved around quietly until he found a small blade. It looked like some kind of medical knife but it would still cut. He held it firmly in his hand, concealing most of the shine from the silvery metal.

He snuck toward one of the only doors, the most likely exit. He didn’t know where he was or where he was going but he had to get out of there. He had to get back. To what he wasn’t really sure. He just had to get back.

Lance paused before opening the door. He could hear small noises, scuffs and breaths right outside the door. He knew what that meant, he was being guarded. No matter, it wouldn’t be for much longer.

He could tell by the simplicity of the door that there wasn’t even a lock. Besides he was in some kind of medical ward, the didn’t usually make a habit of keeping the sick under lock and key. He idly wondered why he was being held there. It didn’t really matter in the end, it was just…odd.

Lance opened the door with a quick jerk, using his body weight to add to the speed. He had decided to use surprise rather than stealth.

And was the guard ever surprised. He jerked back, his hand going to his weapon before he paused. Rookie mistake. Lance slashed at his throat with the little knife, biting deep into the other man’s carotid. Lance didn’t stay to watch the blood, didn’t check to make sure the guard was dead. 

He needed to get back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darn another cliff hanger. Don't know why I keep doing that hahah


End file.
